IBEI 


THE  HOLLANDS. 


BY 

• 

VIRGINIA   F.    TOWNSEND. 


Take  heed  how  you  place  your  confidence  upon  any  other  ground  than  proof  of  virtue. 
Neither  length  of  acquaintance,  mutual  secrecy,  nor  height  of  benefits  can  bind  a  vtclou*  heart; 
no  man  being  good  to  others,  who  is  not  good  to  hiinaelf. 

PHILIP  SIDNEY. 


inSTO,    Publisher, 

3  1 9  '  W  A  s  ii  i  X  o  T  o  N    STREET, 
BOSTON. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1809,  by 

A.  K.   LORING, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


UOCKWKI-L  4.  CHURCHILL, 

Printers    and     S  t  or  eot  y  pers  , 

122  Washington  St.,  Boatou, 


THE  HOLLANDS. 


»     CHAPTER    I. 

"  WAIT  a  moment,  wait  a  moment,  Ross,  and  I  shall 
stop  crying  and  be  brave  again." 

The  voice,  a  young  one,  and  smitten  through  and 
choked  and  half-smothered  by  some  sharp  pain,  but  a 
voice  that  still  gave  you  faith  in  it,  —  in  a  power  be- 
hind that  would  assert  itself  and  redeem  its  promise. 

Then  the  answer  came,  —  a  man's  voice  this  time, 
yet  with  some  subtle  family  likeness  to  the  other, 
shaken  a  good  deal,  so  that  you  felt  rather  than  heard 
the  inward  struggle  that  it  mastered. 

"Well,  Jessamine,-  I'll  give  you  another  chance. 
It  isn't  too  late  yet.  Say  the  word,  and  I'll  throw  up 
the  whole  thing  and  stay  with  you*  But  you  know 
what  an  awful  fact  this  poverty  is,  what  it  has  been 
to  us  all  our  lives.  It  sickens  me  now  to  remember  it,  — 
one  long,  wearing  struggle  to  make  both  ends  meet,  and 
keep  up  a  show  of  decent  appearance  and  of  the  old 
family  respectability  when  the  means  had  all  melted 
away.  Just  think  for  a  moment  of  our  mother's  poor, 
worn,  anxious  face;  it  looked  quieter  and  happier  in 

3 


2054491    . 


4  THE  HOLLANDS. 

the  coffin  than  I  ever  saw  it  anywhere  else,  and  I  just 
thought  to  myself  then,  '  Poor  heart !  you  won't  be 
harrowed  any  more  about  the  rent,  nor  have  that 
dreadful  hunted  look  in  your  eyes  which  I  remember  all 
my  boyhood,  as  quarter  day  drew  near.  The  little,  low 
roof  over  your  head  now  won't  cost  anything  !'  ' 

He  paused  a  moment  here,  and  the  other  voice  sobbed 
in  between  • — 

"All  that's  over  now,  Jessamine,  for  her,  but  for 
us  it's  the  old  «tory  again,  for  a  number  of  years,  at 
least.  There's  no  help  for  it.  I've  looked  the  thing 
fairly  in  the  face,  turned  it  round  on  every  side.  It  will 
be  only  the  old  strain  and  scramble,  wearing  out  youth 
and  hope  for  each  of  us.  It's  a  long,  hard  pull  for  a 
fellow  in  the  city  without  friends  or  influence  of  any  sort, 
and  there  would  be  years  of  drudge  .•  at  some  clerkship 
on  a  pittance  of  a  salary,  before  I  <  "d  provide  you  or 
myself  with  a  comfortable  home  ana  b<  t  the  wolf  from 
the  door.  But.  Jessamine,  you're  ail  i  ?e  got  in  the 
world  now,  and  come  to  the  point,  it's  so  tough  to  leave 
you,  that,  if  you  say  the  word,  I'll  give  it  all  up  and 
stay  here,  and  do  the  best  I  can." 

This  time  the  p'ause  was  longer,  and  into  it  there  came 
no  sobs.  There  were  struggling  breaths  though.  You 
knew  she  was  girding  up  her  soul  to  speak. 

"  I  dare  not  tell  you  to  stay,  Ross.  It  is  true  all 
that  you  have  said.  It,  seems  to  me,  though,  now  that 
the  time  of  parting  has  come,  that  it  would  be  easier  to 
live  in  a  garret  and  on  a  crust  with  you  than  in  a  palace 
without  you  !  " 


THE  HOLLANDS.  5 

•''  I  don't  think  it  would  quite  come  to  that,  Jessa- 
mine," —  with  a  smile,  half-bitter,  half-sorrowful,  on  the 
freshly-bearded  lip. 

That  was  his  weakest  moment.  I  think  just  then  Ross 
half  wished  tha't  Jessamine  would  bid  him  stay. 

Perhaps  the  girl  dimly  discerned  it ;  but,  young  as  she 
was,  she  had  a  conscience,  and  a  will  that  obeyed  it. 
Her  inmost  self  had  spoken  in  those  words,  "  I  do  not 
dare  tell  you  to  stay."  It  was  right  Ross  should  go.  If 
he  stayed,  all  the  best  possibilities  of  his  future  might 
be  paralyzed.  So,  though  this  parting  tugged  at  her 
heartstrings,  held  in  it  some  of  the  bitterness  of  death, 
she  would  not  bid  him  stay.  Give  the  girl  credit  for  it. 
Of  such  stuff  are  the  real  men  and  women  made,  whether 
they  stand  in  high  places  or  low,  whether  the  world  knows 
them  or  not. 

"  To  the  garret  and  the  crust  ?  "  —  trying  to  return 
his,  smile  playfully,  but  making  a  pitiful  failure  of  it. 
"But  it  would, come  to  the  long,  slow  toil  and  wasting 
of  youth  and  life,  which,  in  the  end,  would  be  harder  to 
bear  than  to  know  you  are  so  far  away  from  me.  I  see 
there  is  no  place  for  you  near  me,  Ross,  and,  after  all,  it 
is  God's  world  there  as  much  as  here."  / 

The  momentary  weakness  had  slipped  from  the  youth's 
soul  too. 

"  So  good-by,  Jessamine.  You  and  I  know  all  that 
is  locked  up  in  those  words." 

A  sudden  blenching,  a  scared  look  on  her  face,  —  "Is 
it  quite  time?  " 

"  Yes,  the  train  will  be  along  in   half  an  hour.     I 


6  THE  HOLLA^DS. 

thought  it  best  to  make  this  as  short  as  possible  for  both 
of  us,  so  I  did  not  get  in  sooner.  Will  you  walk  over 
to  the  depot  with  me  ?  " 

She  saw  that  he  asked  this  for  her  sake,  not  his  own. 
"  No,  Ross,  I  could  not  have  all  that  loud,  coarse  crowd 
staring  at  us  when  I  spoke  the  last  word,  —  had  the  last 
kiss  like  this.  Good-by."  Her  arms  tight  about  his 
neck,  —  her  warm,  clinging  kisses  on  his  lips. 

u  Good-by,  little  sister ;  oh,  good-by  !  "  His  face  was 
working,  his  very  breath  coming  in  hot  gasps  now.  He 
would  break  down  if  he  stayed  another  minute.  There 
was  a  small  lounge  in  the  room.  He  laid  her  right  down 
on  that,  as  if  she  had  been  a  baby,  her  face  away  from 
him,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room,  —  out  of  the  house, 
going  to  —  life  or  death;  all  that  would  be  as  God 
willed. 

Jessamine  Holland  lay  there  a  while  as  her  brother 
had  left  her.  It  seemed  that  she  would  never  have  life 
enough  to  get  up  again,  except  when  she  felt  those 
dreadful  stabs  of  pain  that  doubled  her  all  up  like 
swift  blows.  Once  in  a  while  she  wrung  her  hands  in 
a  sudden  spasm  of  ache,  when  she  looked  out  to  the 
future,  >and  saw  the  long,  slow,  desolate  years  before  he 
would  come  again ;  he,  Ross,  the  only  one  of  her  race, 
the  only  thing,  too,  she  really  loved  on  earth. 

"  How  much  better  it  would  have  been  if  they  could 
only  have  died,"  she  thought  in  the  hot,  passionate 
anguish  of  her  youth,  "  than  to  be  on  different"  sides  of 
the  world  !  " 

Suddenly  she  heard  the  car-whistle,  —  that  long,  sharp 


THE  HOLLANDS.  7 

cry,  that,  familiar  as  it  may  be,  never  comes  to  you  in 
certain  moments,  in  soft  twilights  and  dead  wastes  of 
midnight,  without  seeming  like  the  cry  of  some  wild, 
maddened  thing  in  pain  and  terror.  Jessamine  Holland 
sprang  up  and  rushed  out.  Betwixt  the  hills  there  was 
a  bend  just  before  they  entered  the  gorge,  where  one 
might  get  a  glimpse  of  the  cars.  In  a  moment  they 
came  thundering  along.  She  snatched  off  a  little  crimson 
scarf  she  wore  and  shook  it  in  the  air.  Ross  would 
know  just  where  to  look  for  the  house.  In  a  moment 
she  caught  sight  of  his  figure  on  the  platform.  She 
could  discern  it  plainly,  though  he  was  half  a  mile  away. 
He  took  off  his  hat,  swung  it  in  the  air ;  and  the  long 
train  glided  out  of  her  gaze  into  the  hollow,  and  Jessa- 
mine Holland  stood  there  all  alone. 

The  house  behind  her  was  a  kind  of  compromise  between 
a  cottage  and  a  farm-house.  It  was  old  ;  but  there  had 
been  evident  attempts  to  restore  it,  —  at  least,  give  it  a 
certain  appearance  of  homely  comfort.  The  color  was  a 
reddish-brown,  dingy  with  years.  A  low  veranda 
across  the  front  had  evidently  been  an  after-thought. 

It  was  an  afternoon  late  in  October,  the  air  warm, 
damp,  and  still,  the  sky  smothered  all  up  in  gray, 
opaque-looking  clouds.  There  had  been  terrible  frosts 
that  year,  —  you  saw  all  that  by  the  withered  leaves 
and  grasses ;  they  had  lain  in  the  grasp  of  death,  and  no 
warmth  and  light  now  could  stir  them  out  of  the  torpor ; 
still  it  seemed  that  the  air  had  lapsed  into  a  faint  dream 
of  her  vanished  summer,  —  a  mild,  moist,  still  autumn 
afternoon  that  had  something  pleasant  and  soothing  in  it, 


8  THE  HOLLANDS. 

waiting  between  the  frosts  and  the  Indian  summer.  The 
landscape  which  stretched  away  from  the  veranda  was  a 
pleasant  one,  with  no  marked  individuality.  In  the 
distance  the  hills  rose  to  the  horizon,  bearing  great 
pastures  half  way  up  to  their  summits.  Nearer  there  was 
a  narrow  river,  with  its  dark  tannery,  and  its  mills  and 
roads -sloping  here  and  there,  after  a  picturesque,  inco- 
herent fashion,  as  country  roads  mostly  do.  The  town 
lay  on  either  cside  of  the  river,  and  the  rusty  cottage 
perched  on  the  top  of  the  hill  took  in  most  of  it ;  the 
stores,  and  the  dwelling-houses,  and  the  great  town  hall, 
and  the  little  brown  depot  perched  on  one  side,  —  a 
pleasant,  wide,  airy  scene,  but  with  no  especial  power  nor 
grouping  of  anything  to  strike  an  artist.  This  girl, 
Jessamine  Holland,  standing  on  the.  veranda,  is  the 
central  ppint  in  the  picture  fof  you  and  me.  She  is  not 
handsome,  noi  beautiful,  still  less  does  the  word  pretty 
fit  her,  as  in  one  way  and  another  it  does  most  girls  of 
her  age.  She  is  very  young,  loitering  somewhere  late  in 
her  seventeenth  year.  Her  hair  is  of  a  dark-broAvnish 
tint,  fine  and  luxuriant ;  and  her  eyes  —  large,  clear, 
truthful  eyes — match  it;  eyes  that  you  can  trust,  and 
that  will  never  betray  you,  either  with  smiling  or  weeping. 
There  is  a  fresh,  dewy  youth  of  girlhood  about  the 
face,  and  the  red,  fine,  yet  full  curve  of  the  lips,  all 
suggest  feeling  and  force  ;  yet  it  seems  to  me  this  face  of 
Jessamine  Holland  never  belonged  to  anybody  who  had 
led  a  careless,  happy  childhood.  There  is  a  .certain 
thoughtfulness  pervading  it,  which  hardly  belongs  to  its 
years,  and  makes  it  sometimes  look  older  than  she  is; 


THE  HOLLANDS.  9 

yet  when  the  sadness  slips  off,  as  it  does  in  bright  and 
happy  moods,  the  girl  does  not  look  her  years,  few  as 
they  are. 

If  the  word  were  not  so  worn  out  with  a  certain  kind 
of  use,  I  should  say  this  girl  had  an  interesting  face; 
it  has  a  life,  character,  sweetness,  of  its  own.  There 
she  stands,  with  her  flushed  face,  and  her  wet  eyes,  and 
her  lips  apart,  listening  to  the  train  as  its  rumble  grows 
fainter  and  fainter  among  the  hills.  . 

The  brother  that  swift  train  is  carrying  away  is  un- 
like her  in  looks  as  possible,  and  there  is  only  a  faint 
thread  of  family  likeness  in  their  characters.  Ross  Holland 
is  now  just  twenty-one  ;  he  had  the  reputation  of  a  bright 
boy  at  school ;  was  big  and  awkward,  though  he  has 
pretty  much  outgrown  that,  and  has  come  up  into  a 
large,  stalwart  young  manhood  ;  nothing  particularly 
elegant  or  graceful  about  him  however. 

As  for  his  face,  the  features  are  large  and  of  an  agree- 
ible  homeliness,  with  eyes  blue,  wide,  and  clear  as  a 
lake,  that  waits  in  the  deep  heart  of  some  forest  for  the 
summer  dawn ;  and  soft,  bright  yellowish  hair,  with  that 
elusive,  golden  tint  which  poets  love. 

The  history  of  this  brother  and  sister  is  common 
enough,  but  always  a  pitiful  one.  They  come  of  a  sort 
of  broken-down  race  on  both  sides,  though  the  old  vital- 
ity of  the  stock  seems  to  have  quickened  in  them  once 
more.  The  father,  a  dreamy,  indolent,  impractical  man ; 
a  wood-chopper  or  a  breaker  of  stones  on  the  highway 
would  have  done  more  real  service  to  the  world,  so  he 
had  been  honest  and  diligent,  than  the  father  of  Ross 


10  THE  HOLLANDS. 

and  Jessamine  Holland.  The  man  somehow  seemed  sent 
into  the  world  to  be  of  no  mortal  use  in  it,  — t  was  a 
mere  absorbent ;  yet  he  did  not  lack  intelligence,  and  had 
the  manner  and  conversational  habits  of  a  gentleman ; 
had,  too,  his  little  stock  of  pet  theories,  which  he  was 
ready  to  air  with  a  rather  tiresome  loquacity  whenever 
he  could  get  a  listener,  but  set  him  to  any  work  which 
required  promptness  and  practicality,  and  he  was  doomed 
to  inevitable  failure. 

There  was  some  lack  of  stamina,  some  want  of  balance, 
in  the  mental  or  moral  structure  of  the  man,  or  both, 
which  made  his  fate ;  how  much  was  his  fault,  no  mortal 
could  know. 

Such  a  man,  of  course,  fun  through  with  his  property, 
though  he  had  inherited  what,  with  ordinary  care,  would 
have  made  him  a  large  fortune ;  but  it  slipped  through 
his  fingers  like  water  through  a  sieve,  while  its  owner 
mooned  and  dreamed  among  his  books  and  pet  theories. 

Mrs.  Holland  was  by  no  means  the  wife  for  this  kind 
of  man.  She  belonged  to  the  delicate,  nervous,  clinging 
type,  —  one  whom  troubles  and  emergencies,  requiring  a 
prompt  perception  of  the  broad  bearings  of  the  case,  arid 
practical  energy  to  meet  them,  would  be  likely  to  break 
down  utterly.  In  those  great  test  moments  of  life,  which 
in  one  shape  or  another  come  to  us  all,  Mrs.  Holland  was 
liable  to  go  down  into  tears  and  hysteric  spasms.  Still, 
the  burden  was  a  heavy  one,  and  the  shoulders  on  which 
it  fell  were  not  fitted  to  carry  it. 

Long  before  their  boy  and  girl  were  born,  — for  these 
were  the  last  of  a  large  household  that  dropped  into 


THE  HOLLA!\DS.  11 

small  graves,  —  the  family  fortunes  had  begun  to  de- 
cline. 

Ross  and  Jessamine  Holland  had  been  born  into  that 
old,  miserable  struggle  of  pride  with  poverty.  The  hus- 
band and  father  Avasted  his  days  in  dreams  and  theories 
that  did  nobody  any  good,  and  his  wife  grew  worn  every 
year  with  tears  and  anxieties  and  shifts  of  every  sort. 
So  the  children  were  defrauded  of  half  the  life  and 
brightness  of  their  years  in  the  dreary,  depressing  atmos- 
phere betwixt  the  irritability  ef  one  parent  and  the  wear- 
ing anxieties  of  the  other. 

Of  course,  every  year  made  it  worse  ;  the  misery, 
being  the  consequence  of  defects  and  feebleness  of  char- 
acter, had  no  remedy.  The  wolf  drew  closer  to  the 
door.  One  piece  of  land  after  another  was  sold  to  fur- 
nish bread  and  shelter  for  the  household,  while  all  sorts 
of  sordid  economies  chilled  the  young  lives  coming  up 
in  the  midst  of  them. 

If  there  had  not  entered  into  the  making  of  the  boy 
and  girl  some  of  the  stamina  transmitted  from  the  long- 
dead  generations,  this  cloud  and  darkness  that  hung  so 
heavily  on  their  blossoming  years  must  have  fatally 
dwarfed  their  natures;  but  there  was  a  force  in  both, 
though  of  a  different  sort,  that  repelled  much  which  was 
unwholesome  in  the  influence  gathered  around  the  dawn- 
ing of  their  lives,  —  not  that  they  escaped  unharmed. 
The  boy  was  naturally  obstinate,  and  the  rainy  day  atmos- 
phere of  his  home  often  made  him  sullen.  The  girl  was 
sensitive,  and  she  became  more  or  less  moody  and  pas- 
sionate ;  but  with  all  this,  each  nature  would  often  assert 


12  THE  HOLLANDS. 

its  birthright  to  happiness.  *And  slipping  off  all  their 
troubles,  the  two  would  flash  up  into  hours  of  such  high 
glee  and  wild  sport,  that  the  dark  old  home  would  shine 
out  brightly  from  its  prevailing  hues  of  mist  and  vapor, 
settling  back,  of  course,  into  its  habitual  tone  after 
a  while.  For  it  was  a  dreadful  struggle,  —  a  sickenm*? 

OO         i  O 

one,  —  with  no  steady  hand  at  the  helm,  and  that  con- 
stant strain  to  make  both  ends  meet  and  keep  up  some 
show  of  respectability  on  inadequate  means.  It  came 
down  at  times  to  penury,  actual  suffering,  hunger,  and 
cold.  And  still  Josiah  Holland  mooned  about  the  house 
with  his  hands  in  his  pocket  and  his  face  in  a  dream,  with 
the  poor  worn  wife,  the  hunted  look  in  her  eyes,  and  the 
pitiful  faces  of  his  children  about  him.  Even  their 
youth  could  not  quite  shake  off  the  feeling  of  guilt  and 
shame  which  clung  to  them. 

Ross  had  just  attained  his  fourteenth  year  when  his 
father's  life  suddenly  went  out.  The  family  was  no 
worse  for  that ;  on  the  whole,  a  little  bettered. 

Some  remote  connection  bestirred  himself  and  found 
Ross  a  position  as  errand-boy  in  a  lawyer's  office.  The 
salary  wag  a  mere  pittance,  paid  to  the  boy's  mother  for 
his  board,  but  trickled  a  steady  rivulet  into  the  small 
stream  that  nourished  their  lives. 

So  three  or  four  more  years  went  on.  The  father  of 
Ross  had  been  a  scholar,  and  he  had  educated  his  son  in  a 
miscellaneous  way,  and  the  boy  had  plenty  of  opportuni- 
ties to  indulge  his  natural  craving  for  study  in  his  inter- 
vals of  leisure  at  the  lawyer's  office. 

At  last,  however,  Mrs.  Holland  broke  down  with  anx- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  13 

iety  and  overwork,  and  went  out  of  life  almost  as  sudden- 
ly as  her  husband. 

By  this  time,  the  stream  which,  thus  far,  had  kept  soul 
and  body  of  the  Holland  family  together,  was  drained  to 
its  sources. 

Ross  taught  district  schools  in  the  towns  around  for 
two  or  three  winters  that  followed,  and  at  last  he  found 
a  place  in  the  city  as  book-keeper,  on  a  small  salary. 
They  gave  up  the  old  home  which  they  had  rented  long 
before  their  father's  death,  and  the  sale  of  the  faded 
furniture  boarded  Jessamine  at  the  home  of  a  servant 
who  had  lived  with  her  mother  in  better  days,  and  who 
had  married  a  small  farmer  in  the  town,  and  had  always 
retained  a  loyal  attachment  to  the  household. 

This  family  history  has  occupied  more  space  than  I 
intended.  The  last  words  of  Ross  to  his  sister  tell  the 
rest.  The  young  man  had  clearly  discerned  the  situation, 
and  what  his  prospects  were  in  the  over-crowded  city. 
A  long  drudgery  at  the  desk,  and  a  slender  salary  for 
years,  was  not  inviting  to  a  soul  tired  of  the  grip  of 
poverty. 

An  opportunity  suddenly  opened  of  a  clerkship  in  a 
commercial  house  in  the  East  Indies.  *  The  salary  trebled 
his  present  one,  and  there  was  every  prospect  of  advance- 
ment for  talent  and  energy.  You  have  seen  what  it  cost 
Ross  Holland  to  make  up  his  mind  to  go.  and  how  at  the 
very  last  his  will  well-nigh  failed  him.  The  feeling  betwixt 
Jessamine  and  himself  was  something  very  unusual  even 
betwixt  brother  and  sister.  Probably  the  lonely,  darkened 
childhood  of  both  had  knit  them  closer  to  each  other. 


14  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Jessamine  Holland  had,  as  you  must  have  discerned, 
no  ordinary  force  of  character  when  it  was  put  to  the 
test.  She  was  resolved  on  some  self-helpfulness,  and 
through  her  brother's  influence  she  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing some  copying  at  the  two  law -offices  in  the  town.  The 
remuneration  was  a  mere  pittance,  and  of  an  uncertain 
kind ;  but  it  gave  Jessamine  a  blessed  feeling  of 
independence. 

She  was  to  live  still  with  the  family  where  she  had 
found  a  home  for  the  last  two  years.  The  household 
atmosphere  was  not  refined,  and  there  was  much  that  was 
coarse  and  repugnant  to  a  nature  that  had  inherited  fine 
tastes  and  feelings ;  but  kindness  of  a  certain  sort,  and  a 
comfortable  shelter,  made  up  for  much  that  was  lacking. 
At  any  rate,  this  was  Jessamine's  only  refuge,  and  here 
her  brother  left  her. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  15 


CHAPTER  II. 

' '  WELL,  ma,  you  know  Duke  always  was  singular,  and 
he  would  express  his  gratitude  in  a  way  peculiarly  his 
own." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  ;  and  one  can't  say  a  word  when 
we  remember  what  an  immense  obligation  the  whole 
family  rests  under  to  the  young  man.  It's  really  em- 
barrassing. It  makes  me  shiver  yet  when  I  think  of  the 
peril  from  which  Duke  so  narrowly  escaped.  What  an 
awful  thing  it  might  have  been  !  I'm  ready  to  do  any- 
thing that  is  proper  and  generous  to  the  preserver  of  my 
boy's  life,  but  I  really  wish  it  was  an  obligation  that  a 
handsome  sum  of  money  would  discharge." 

"  0  mamma,  it  would  never  do  to  suggest  that 
before  Duke.  You  ought  to  have  seen  the  way  he 
flushed  up  when  papa  suggested  it  after  they  had  gone 
over  the  whole  thing  together.  'Sir,'  he  said, — and 
you  know  how  Duke  can  say  a  thing  when  his  spirit  is 
up,  —  '  if  I  were  such  a  caitiff  as  to  offer  money  to  that 
fellow  for  so  nobly  risking  his  life  in  my  behalf,  I  hope 
he'd  tell  me  that  he  was  sorry  he  had  not  left  my  miser- 
able carcass  to  rot  under  the  waves.  I  should  certainly 
deserve  no  better  answer.' ' 


16  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  And  what  did  your  father  say  ?  "  asked  the'lady, 
with  a  little  smile,  evidently  half  enjoying  the  high 
spirit  of  the  reply,  — and  only  half. 

"  Oh,  he  hemmed  and  hawed,  and  said  he  was  ready 
and  glad  to  do  whatever  was  proper,  and  that  Duke  must 
find  out  the  best  mode  of  proving  our  gratitude ;  but  I 
thought  papa  wished,  like  you,  that  it  was  something 
which  dollars  and  cents  could  pay  for." 

In  one  corner  of  the  handsome  room  the  mother  and 
daughter  talked  in  a  low  undertone  together ;  in  the 
other  was  a  group  of  girls  at  the  piano,  utterly  absorbed 
in  their  chatter  over  some  German  opera  music,  —  pretty, 
blooming  girls,  with  a  year  or  two  dividing  their  ages, 
and  a  family  likeness  more  or  less  decided  running 
through  the  whole  group. 

Mrs.  Mason  Walbridge,  sitting  in  the  corner,  with  the 
bright  crimson  meshes  of  the  shawl  she  was  knitting 
flowing  over  her  lap,  for  she  had  nice  little  theories  of 
industry,  looks  just^what  she  is,  — the  handsome  mother 
of  this  blooming  group  of  girls ;  a  lady  who,  under  all 
circumstances,  and  in  any  position  which  she  may  occupy, 
will  be  certain  to  reflect  credit  on  herself,  —  a  woman  of 
respectabilities  and  fitnesses  always.  But  if  your  line 
arid  plummet  went  deeper  than  this,  —  into  heart,  feel- 
ing, sympathy,  —  into  the  things  that  are  vital  and  eter- 
nal,— this  woman,  with  her  fair  outside  and  her  scrupulous 
life,  somehow  failed  you.  The  great  trouble  with  her 
was  an  excessive  worldliness.  It  interpenetrated  her 
whole  being,  shaped  all  her  life-purposes,  colored  her 
thoughts  and  feelings  even,  though  Mrs.  Walbridge  was 


THE  HOLLANDS.  17 

quite  unconscious  of  it,  —  people  are  apt  to  be  of  their 
besetting  sins. 

The  world  had  always  been  kindly  to  this  woman,  her 
life  flowing  in  broad,  smooth  currents ;  no  dreadful 
ploughshares  of  grief  and  loss  going  down  deep  into  her 
nature,  and  turning  up  the  good  or  evil  to  the  light ;  if 
there  were  in  her,  too,  hot,  sulphurous  passions  of  sel- 
fishness, envies,  malice,  their  fires  had  never  flashed  up 
to  her  consciousness ;  all  seemed  as  smooth  and  polished 
as  her  life. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  had  married  prosperously ;  indeed, 
you  could  hardly  imagine  her  doing  otherwise.  Her 
husband  was  a  rather  dull,  pompous  man  on  the  surface, 
with  a  good  many  obstinacies  and  angularities,  but  with 
plenty  of  business  shrewdness  arid  foresight,  as  a  long 
and  prosperous  commercial  career  abundantly  proved. 

Mason  Walbridge  was  fond  and  proud  of  his  wife  and 
family  in  his  way.  He  indulged  them,  with  a  moderate 
allowance  of  grumbling,  in  all  frhc  elegance  and  luxury 
which  his  ample  wealth  afforded.  He  prided  himself  on 
what  he  regarded  as  the  solid  things  of  life,  —  money, 
respectability,  social  and  business  reputation.  He  even 
had  some  ambitions  beyond  that,  — ambitions  for  civil  and 
political  distinction.  He  lived  in  one  of  the  large  inland 
cities  of  Massachusetts,  and  had  been  three  times  nomi- 
nated for  mayor,  and  once  elected.  ' '  His  Honor,  Mason 
Walbridge,"  as  it  always  gratified  the  gentleman  to  have 
his  letters  superscribed,  lived  in  one  of  the  quiet,  but 
most  expensive  localities  of  the  city.  The  house  would 
have  struck  you  at  once,  with  its  solid,  substantial  look, 
2 


18  THE  HOLLANDS. 

in  the  midst  of  pleasant  grounds,  an  ample,  rather  pre- 
tentious stone  house,  with  a  couple  of  couchant  lions  on 
the  steps,  dark  and  grim,  — a  kind  of  stern  warder  of  the 
respectabilities  and  virtues  within.  Then  there  were 
terraces,  arbors,  walks  with  facings  of  shrubberies,  arid 
on  every  hand  rare  flowers  that  rejoiced  the  eves  and  in- 
spired the  air;  and  a  fountain  shooting  up  its  waters 
from  an  urn  between  two  reclining  marble  naiads,  — 
everything  very  elegant  and  in  good  taste,  you  see ;  and 
everybody  conceded  that  Mason  Walbridge  had  the  finest 
residence  in  town. 

The  eldest  daughter  of  the  house,  Edith  Walbridge, 
had  slipped  off  her  school-days,  and  was  now  in  so- 
ciety. Her  family  -was  very  proud  of  her,  and  in 
many  ways  she  certainly  justified  the  feeling;  a  hand- 
some face,  after  the  mother's  type,  fine  bloom  and  deli- 
cate mould  of  feature,  with  a  wonderful  brilliancy  and 
archness  which  made  her  very  attractive  in  society.  Her 
character,  too,  in  its  'general  structure,  was  like  her 
mother's,  with  something  more  of  force  and  individuality ; 
a  haughtier  temper  when  it  was  roused,  a  stronger  will 
when  it  was  opposed ;  but  these  did  not  often  indicate 
themselves,  for  Edith  had  the  natural  good  nature  of  the 
family.  • 

Mrs.  Walbridge  trained  her  children  after  what  she 
believed  to  be  the  most  exemplary  pattern ;  indeed,  she 
relished  pet  theories  and  maxims,  and  interfused  them 
largely  into  all  those  admonitions  on  which  the  young 
lives  about  her  were  mostly  reared.*  She  desired  her 
daughters  to  become,  after  her  own  ideal,  perfect  women, 


THE  HOLLANDS.  19 

wives,  and  mothers,  and  that  ideal  was  one  of  exemplary 
respectability  in  all  that  the  world  values ;  an  ideal,  too, 
that  the  woman  believed  she  herself  realizedr  although 
a  modesty  quite  in  keeping  with  the  rest  of  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge's  character  would  have  prevented  her  ever  ex- 
pressing any  such  conviction. 

"  There,  girls,  there;  one  really  can't  hear  themselves 
think,  you  make  such  a  chatter,"  was  Mrs.  Walbridge's 
mild  admonition  to  the  four  girls  about  the  piano,  as  the 
talk  waxed  louder  and  louder,  after  the  manner  of  school- 
girls. 

It  was  growing  towards  twilight ;  the  golden  lights 
haunting  the  shrubberies  outside,  until  they  burned  up 
suddenly  with  the  last  unearthly  glory  and  beauty  of  the 
day,  almost,  a  poet  might  have  thought  reverently,  as 
though  God  walked  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  among 
them. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  and  her  daughter,  looking  out,  how- 
ever, over  the  pleasant  grounds,  certainly  thought  nothing 
,  of  this  sort. 

It  was  not  an  atmosphere  through  which  flashed  the 
sudden  inspirations  of  poetic  fancies,  or  across  which 
loomed  sometimes  vast  horizons  of  lofty  visions,  which, 
though  they  fade  swiftly,  leaving  us  only  the  flats  of 
our  every-day  life,  still  ^  haunt  our  memories  like  the 
mighty  mountain  landscapes  where  our  feet  have  stood, 
or  the  vast  solemn  seas  to  whose  shores  we  have  gone 
down. 

In  the  Walbridge  atmosphere  you  always  felt  some- 
how that  wealth  was  the  greatest  thing,  and  the  most  to 


20  THE  HOLLANDS. 

be  desired  in  the  world,  —  the  one  solid,  substantial  good, 
before  which  all  other  things  dwindled  in  importance. 
What  if  it  narrowed  and  crushed  also  all  higher  impulses, 
with  all  Teachings  of  the  soul  after  that  life  that  is  more 
than  meat  or  drink? 

"There  comes  Duke,"  said  Edith,  suddenly,  closing 
the  book  she  had  been  indolently  attempting  to  read  for 
the  last  hour. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  folded  up  the  soft,  glowing  meshes  of 
her  knitting.  "I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  she  said.  "It 
was  very  imprudent  to  go  out  so  soon  after  that  terrible 
exposure.  I  told  him  so  ;  but  Duke  is  like  his  sex  and 
his  age ;  he  never  will  listen  to  reason." 

You  would  not  have  been  half  an  hour  in  the  Wai- 
bridge  family  without  feeling  that  this  Duke  was  some 
strong  force  in  the  household ;  not  a  pliant,  nor  perhaps 
altogether  an  approved  one ;  nevertheless,  a  force. 

The  others  were  always  quoting  his  sayings  and  doings, 
often  with  a  little  touch  of  ridicule  or  sarcasm,  frequent- 
ly with  perplexity  and  more  or  less  admiration. 

There  was  a  hurrying  of  .feet  along  the  passage,  and 
he  burst  into  the  room, — a  young  man,  looking  his  years, 
and  they  were  twenty-two ;  nothing  very  remarkable  in 
his  appearance  at  first  sight,  as  I  know  of,  for  Duke  had 
managed  to  escape  the  general  .good  looks  of  the  family. 

He  was-  not  particularly  homely  either ;  a  rather  slen- 
der, though  broad-chested  youth ;  a  well-knit  figure  that- 
gave  a  comfortable  warrant  of  health  and  strength,  but 
not  a  particle  of  Apollo  grace  in  its  movements ;  indeed, 
it  had  been  one  of  the  trials  of  Mrs.  Walbridge's  life 


THE  HOLLANDS.  21 

that  her  only  son  should  have  barelj  escaped  being  actu- 
ally awkward  and  clumsy  during  all  his  boyhood.  He 
had  outgrown  that,  —  even  the  slouch  in  his  shoulders  and 
gait,  though  his  mother  in  her  secret  soul  hardly  felt  like 
insuring  the  latter  now.  A  light  complexion,  a  face  that 
did  not  strike  you  as  remarkable  at  first  sight,  but  that 
somehow  won  you  to  turn  and  look  at  it  over  and  over 
again,  and  each  time  you  would  like  it  better,  —  a 
strong,  rather  grave,  manly  face,  with  gray,  clear,  honest 
eyes ;  and,  over  all,  a  mass  of  loose  beautiful  hair,  —  a 
rich  brown  hue,  gleaming  here  and  there  into  auburn,  — 
is  the  best  portrait  I  can  paint  for  you  of  Duke  Walbridge. 

That  of  course  was  not  his  real  name,  which  was 
Philip,  though  his  family  had  so  far  naturalized  the 
other,  that  they  would  never  get  back  to  his  legitimate 
title.  Duke  was  the  household  name.  It  had  become 
fastened  on  the  boy  when  he  was  hardly  out  of  small 
clothes,  because  of  a  certain  dignity  and  independence 
with  which  he  used  to  carry  himself  when  he  was  op- 
posed or  angry,  and  which  sat  in  a  wonderfully  amusing 
way  on  the  small  head  and  shoulders.  From  his  baby- 
hood there  had  always  been  some  marked  character  and 
individuality  about  the  boy,  to  which  no  other  of  the 
Walbridges,  big  or  little,  could  lay  claim. 

So  this  :'  Duke  "  had  clung  to  the  solitary  male  rep- 
resentative of  the  family,  and  it  was  bound  up  with  him 
now,  for  good  or  evil.  Around  it  clustered  so  many  old 
household  associations,  with  their  strong,  homely  fra- 
grance, so  much  that  was  pleasant,  and  odd,  and  amusing, 
so  much,  too,  of  all  that  was  tenderest  and  sweetest  in  the 


22  THE  HOLLANDS. 

young  life  of  the  household,  that,  though  the  statelier 
name  might  be  aired  on  grand*  occasions  and  worn  for 
strangers,  the  other  had  its  roots  far  down  in  their 
thoughts  and  hearts,  and  would  hold  its  claim,  slipping 
over  their  lips  and  in  their  ears,  —  the  dear  old,  thread- 
bare household  name. 

There  was  a  little  stir  at  the  piano  and  in  the  corner 
when  he  came.  Duke  always  brought  in  one  way  and 
another  a  fresh  breeze  into  the  family  circle. 

"  Well,  Duke,  you  do  get  over  your  ducking  the  easi- 
est of  anybody  I  ever  saw,"  laughed  Edith,  who  was 
always  fond  of  rallying  her  brother. 

"Hush,  dear!"  said  her  mother,  gravely.  "It  was 
too  serious  a  matter  to  speak  of  in  that  light  way.  I 
declare,  Duke,  I  never  can  bear  the  thought  of  your 
going  on  the  water  again." 

"Well,  then,  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  my 
finding  Death  some  time  on  the  land  then,  mother.  It 
strikes  me  one  doesn't  make  much  by  standing  at  guard 
with  Fate  all  the  time,  as  Angelos  did  with  envy.  Death 
is  sure  to  have  the  victory  in  the  end." 

"Why,  Duke,"  said  Eva,  the  youngest  of  his  sisters, 
—  the  pet,  too,  —  coming  over  and  hanging  on  him ; 
"one  would  think,  to  hear  you  talk,  you  were  as  ready 
to  die  as  John  Knox.  or  one  of  the  old  martyrs." 

"  No,"  —  speaking  very  seriously.  "  I  didn't  feel  that 
way  at  all  when  I  found  myself  going  down  and  the  cold, 
salt  brine  gurgling  and  choking  in  my  throat.  Ugh  ! 
don't  talk  about  it." 

Eva  drew  nearer  to  her  brother  in  a  caressing  way. 


THE  HOLLANDS.       •  28 

slipping  one  arm  about  his  neck.  There  was  a  moment's 
lull  at  the  piano.  Duke's  story  had  a  dramatic  interest 
for  the  girls,  that  superseded  the  German  opera  for  a 
time.  They  were  never  tired  of  hearing  him  go  over  the 
details,  and  it  was  not  often  they  could  get  him  to  talk 
about  it. 

Duke  was  dreadfully  moody  in  this,  as  in  most  other 
things.  He  went  on  now  in  a  moment,  half-  talking  to 
himself,  "  I  tell  you  it  brought  up  all  my  past  life,  in 
a  single  flash,  as  clear  as  broad  noonday.  I  saw  the 
whole  of  it,  — little  things  I'd  forgotten,  that  happened 
long  ago,  standing  out  sharp  and  vivid.  I've  heard  of 
such  things  with  drowning  people,  — I  felt  it  then." 

There  was  a  little  pause  here.  Everybody  looked 
grave ;  everybody,  too,  looked  at  Duke  with  some  new 
tenderness  and  interest  for  the  awful  peril  out  of  which 
he  had  barely  escaped.  It  gave  him  a  new  importance, 
a  kind  of  hero  aspect  in  all  their  eyes.  Of  this  there  was 
no  need  though.  Duke's  individuality  always  carried 
with  it  a  certain  power  of  self-assertion.  He  was  not  vain 
however ;  get  to  the  bottom  of  him,  underneath  a  certain 
morbid  pride  and  sensitiveness  lay  a  profound  humility. 

"How  long  were  you  in  that  dreadful  water?  "  ven- 
tured Grace. 

""Two  minutes.  You  know  I  am  a  tolerable  swimmer 
in  smooth  waters,  but  those  great,  roaring,  hungry  waves 
rushed  over  me  and  sucked  me  down.  I  tried  to  fight 
them,  but  it  was  little  use.  I  was  giving  out  and  going 
under  for  good,  when  something  grasped  me,  and  a  voice 
shouted,  '  Hold  on,  and  I'll  save  you.'  ' 


24  THE  HOLLANDS. 

He  stopped  here,  his  voice  working  and  breaking  up 
in  his  throat.  There  were  tears  in  other  eyes  beside 
Duke's. 

"You  did  not  stay  long  in  the  water  after  that?" 
said  Edith. 

"  Not  very,  though  it  seemed  hours ;  moments  do  at  such 
times.  They  stopped  the  steamer.  I  heard  the  shouts 
of  the  men  over  the  roar  of  the  winds  and  waves.  They 
threw  out  ropes,  and  got  a  boat  down  and  took  us  in, 
though  we  were  both  pretty  well  exhausted." 

"  It  was  a  heroic  deed,  —  saving  my  brother's  life.  It 
seems  just  like  a  romance  !  "  rejoined  Eva. 

"Heroic!  it  was  more  than  that, — it  was  sublime! 
risking  his  life  to  save  mine  in  that  way.  The  noble,  gen- 
erous fellow  !  It  stirs  every  pulse  in  me  to  think  of  it." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  not  consciously  disposed  to  depre- 
ciate  the   character  of  the  act,  yet   every  word  which 
enhanced  it  only  added  to  her  uncomfortable  sense  of 
obligation.     "0  Duke,  how  could  you  risk  your  life  in 
,that  way  !  "  she  said,  reproachfully. 

"  It  was  foolhardy,  I  suppose  ;  but  there  was  a  terrible 
gale,  which  grew  as  the  night  came  on,  and  you  know 
what  an  intoxication  a  storm  at  sea  has  for  me.  I  went 
on  the  upper  deck,  and  stood  there,  drinking  it  all  in 
with  a  strange,  fierce  joy,  never  dreaming  of  danger : 
indeed,  there  was  none,  if  I'd  had  my  wits  about  me. 
At  last  I  fell  to  helping  one  of  the  sailors,  who  was 
removing  a  mass  of  stuff  which  had  somehow  got  piled 
together  on  the  upper  deck  — 

"What  an  idea.  Duke,  that   you  should  turn  deck- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  25 

hand  !  "  put  in  here  another  of  the  sisters,  with  a  little 
amused  laugh,  touched  all  through  with  contempt,  not 
of  the  ill-natured  sort  though. 

"  I  can't  exactly  account  for  it,  but  an  instinct  of  help- 
fulness, of  practical  activity,  seizes  me  sometimes  in 
strange  places  and  ways.  I  don't  think  I  should  have 
been  sorry,  if  I'd  gone  under,  to  remember  that  my 
last  act  had  been  to  relieve  that  poor  fellow  of  part  of 
his  load." 

Nobody  made  any  reply  here,  and  Duke  kept  on  :  — 

"  I  had  just  reached  the  stairs  when  the  boat  gave  a 
great  lurch,  and  I  staggered,  tried  to  regain  myself,  and 
failed.  The  next  thing  I  remember,  I  was  going  over 
the  side  into  the  sea.  Ugh  !  the  first  cold  plunge  of  the 
waves.  But,  girls,  you  have  heard  all  this  before," 
—  suddenly  drawing  back  into  his  shell. 

"  Oh,  dear,  don't  stop,  Duke !  "  chimed  up  half  a 
dozen  young  voices ;  "it  would  be  new  if  you  told  it  a 
hundred  times." 

'•Of  course  they  made  an  immense  fuss  over  us  when 
they  got  us  back  into  the  ship."  It  was  Duke's  habit  to 
be  light  and  satirical  when  he  felt  deeply,  so  they  under- 
stood him  now,  and  that  the  memory  of  the  scene  tugged 
at  his  heartstrings.  "We  were  both  pretty  well  used 
up,  but  the  passengers  and  the  crew  gathered  about  us,  the 
women  talking  and  crying  for  joy.  It  was  a  great  scene. ' ' 

"  I  wish  I'd  been  there  !  "  chorused  the  young  voices 
again. 

Then  one  of  them  asked,  "  But  what  did  you  and 
the  young  man  say  to  each  other?  " 


26  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  Nothing  until  the  next  morning.  The  doctors  got  us 
into  warm  sheets  with  cordials  down  our  throats.  And 
what  could  I  say  when  we  met  afterwards,  only  grasp 
my  preserver's  hand,  and  tell  him  what  was  the  simple 
truth,  —  he  had  done  for  me  the  greatest  deed  one  human 
being  could  for  another,  and  placed  me,  too,  under  an 
obligation  which  I  and  all  those  to  whom  my  life  was 
dear  must  carry  to  their  graves." 

"Well,  now,  that  was  just  the  right  thing!"  said 
Eva,  admiringly.  "I'm  sure  I  shall  remember  the 
young  man  as  long  as  I  live,  and  that  he  saved  our 
Duke's  life,  —  shan't  we,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  answered  her  mother.  It  was 
the  fit  and  proper  thing,  therefore  she  could  not  gainsay  it. 

" But  what  did  the  young  man  say?"  asked  another 
of  the  sisters. 

"  Flushed  up  to  the  very  roots  of  his  hair,  as  though 
instead  of  doing  something  to  be  proud  of  for  all  his  life 
to  come,  he  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself.  '  Don't 
put  it  in  that  light,'  he  said.  '  I  think  you'd  have  done 
as  much  for  me  under  the  circumstances.'  ' 

"  Why,  how  manly  and  modest !  He  must  be  a  real 
hero,  like  one  of  those  grand  old  knights  !  "  remarked 
Eva  again,  who  had  a  girl's  romantic  fancies  of  heroism 
and  knight-errantry,  and  all  that,  though  the  household 
temperament  was  hardly  one  to  develop  anything  of  this 
sort. 

"Daughter,  don't  interrupt  your  brother  quite  so 
often  with  your  impressions,"  said  the  soft  voice  of  the 
mother. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  27 

Mrs.  Walbridge's  reproofs  were  usually  of  the  gentler 
sort ;  yet  there  was  always  a  certain  dignity  and  pro- 
priety in  these,  which  gave  them  more  weight  and  effect 
than  any  degree  of  vehemence  on  the  part  of  some 
people. 

"  I  told  him  in  reply,"  continued  Duke,  "  that  I  was 
not  quite  so  sure  of  myself  as  he  seemed  to  be.  I  very 
much  doubted  whether  I  should  have  had  the  generous 
courage  to  jump  into  that  boiling  sea,  and  risk  my  life 
for  a  man  of  whom  I  had  never  so  much  as  heard. 

"  iThat  is  not  exactly  my  case,'  he  said ;  '  I  sat  next 
you  at  supper,  and  we  had  some  talk  during  the  meal. 
I  saw  your  face  as  the  light  flashed  on  it  when  you  went 
over,  and  remembered  it.' 

"I  recalled,  then,  some  talk  about  the  weather  and 
the  boat,  which  we  had  at  supper.  It  had  quite 
slipped  out  of  my  thought  though ;  and,  as  I  told  my 
preserver,  '  a  man  must  be  very  magnanimous  who  felt  so 
slight  a  circumstance  gave  another  any  claim  on  him,  — 
to  the  hazarding  of  his  life  even.'  ' 

"  What  did  he  say  then  ?  "  asked  Edith,  who,  like  all 
the  others,  was  absorbed  in  her  brother's  story. 

"  I  don't  remember  precisely.  It  was  easy  to  see  that 
my  thanks  embarrassed  the  young  fellow,  and,  in  fact,  any 
words  I  could  say  seemed  so  mean  and  small,  so  far 
below  the  vast  debt  which  I  owed  the  preserver  of  my 
life,  that  I,  in  turn,  could  find  little  to  say.  We  took 
each  other's  names  and  addresses,  and  so  parted." 

"  Now,  if  you  had  been  two  women,"  said  Eva,  who  was 
a  bright  little  girl,  "you  would  have  kissed  each  other." 


28  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Duke  laughed,  and  drew  the  girl  toward  him  with  a 
little  sudden  demonstration  of  tenderness,  quite  unusual  to 
himself ;  in  fact  any  instance  of  affection  on  his  part  was 
always  apt  to  leap  out  from  a  shy,  reticent  nature,  which 
it  suddenly  overmastered.  "We  didn't  do  anything  of 
that  sort,  Eva ;  but  we  wrung  each  other's  hands,  until 
both  shoulders  ached,  I  think.  We  men  have  to  express 
our  feelings  in  rougher  fashions  than  you  do." 

"  And  you  said  the  name  was  Ross  Holland?  "  said 
Eva. 

"It's  quite  a  pretty  one,"  said  Edith. 

"It  will  always  sound  more  than  pretty  to  me," 
answered  her  brother. 

After  a  little  pause,  he  continued  :  "I've  been  to  see 
my  friend  this  afternoon.  He  leaves  day  after  to-morrow 
for  the  East  Indies;  is  engaged  in  some  commercial 
house  there.  I  invited  him  up  here  to  dinner  to-morrow 
noon.  I  thought  my  family  would  wish  to  see,  at  least, 
the  man  who  had  saved  'my  life." 

' '  Certainly  we  do.  I  should  have  sent  for  the  young 
man,  Duke,  if  you  had  not  first  thought  of  it.  I  wish 
there  was  something  we  could  do  for  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Walbridge,  who  felt  relieved  to  find  the  young  man  was 
going  so  soon  to  the  antipodes. 

"How  does  he  look  and  appear?"  asked  one  of  the 
girls,  naturally  enough. 

"  He's  rather  a  stout,  well-knit  fellow  ;  a  little  broader 
and  taller  than  I ;  a  good  face ;  not  handsome,  as  you 
girls  would  put  it ;  but  a  clear,  open,  manly  face,  —  one 
of  the  sort  that  will  make  its  way  in  the  world." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  29 

"Does  he  seem  like  one  who  has  had  advantages  of 
family  or  good-breeding,  —  a  gentleman,  in  short  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Walbridge,  who  somehow  had  doubts  on  this  subject. 

"  I  should  think  he  must  have  been  well  brought  up ; 
but  he  isn't  one  of  your  gloved  and  perfumed  city  fops, 
by  any  means,"  answered  Duke,  who  did  not  much  relish 
the  question.  "  He's  quiet  and  shy,  I  think  ;  but  self- 
possessed  and  straightforward.  I  haven't  asked  him 
whether  he  was  rich,  or  accustomed  to  the  best  society ; 
but  I  should  not  be  ashamed  to  introduce  him  to  my  sis- 
ters, even  if  he  hadn't  just  saved  my  life." 

If  anybody  in  the  world  ever  made  Mrs.  Walbridge 
internally  wince  a  little,  it  was  this  queer  son  of  hers. 
He  had  a  habit  of  turning  around  onlier  some  side  of  her 
question  which  she  had  never  thought  it  possessed  before, 
and  which  really  seemed  to  carry  a  complexion  of  selfish- 
ness and  pretension,  which  always  made  her  a  little  un- 
comfortable ;  for  the  lady  had  that  inward  self-satisfaction 
and  complacency  to  which  she  believed  her  virtues  and 
dignity  entitled  her.  The  truth  was,  she  was  a  little 
afraid  of  Duke,  and  could  never  exactly  make  up  her 
mind  just  how  much  he  meant  by  these  speeches,  or 
whether  they  were  merely  his  habit  of  sarcasm.  She 
was  glad,  however,  that  just  then  the  sight  of  her  hus- 
band's cabriolet  rolling  up  through  the  drive  spared  her 
the  necessity  of  a  reply,  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  usually 
condescended  to  explain  herself,  and  make  her  position 
good  after  one  of  these  speeches  of  Duke's,  —  a  kind  of 
self-defence,  however,  to  which  she  was  seldom  obliged  to 
resort  in  her  talk  with  others. 


30  THE  HOLLANDS. 

A  moment  after,  Mason  Walbridge  entered  the  room. 
He  was  a  rather  portly  gentleman,  with  a  kind  of  solid, 
substantial  air ;  just  your  idea  of  a  prosperous  business 
man  settling  down  into  a  comfortable  old  age.  Not  that 
he  had  exactly  attained  this  yet,  though  his  hair  was 
quite  frosted  and  his  face  had  gathered  up  thick  wrinkles, — 
a  man  with  whom  you  instinctively  felt  all  mere  theories, 
idealisms,  enthusiasms,  would  find  it  hard  to  maintain 
themselves.  There  was  a  stubborn  practicality,  a  solid 
materialism,  suggested  by  the  man's  very  presence  ;  and 
this  did  not  belie  the  character  and  temperament  of 
Mason  Walbridge. 

"  0  pa,  you  ought  to  have  been  here,"  said  Eva,  who 
you  have  already  discovered  was  a  talker,  and  petted 
more  or  less,  as  the  youngest  of  the  family  flock  has  a 
prescriptive  right  to  be.  "Duke  has  been  telling  us 
over  again  all  about  his  falling  into  the  water ;  and  he 
has  invited  that  young  man  who  saved  him  to  come  up  to 
dinner  to-morrow.  I'm  so  glad.  I  want  to  see  him  so 
much." 

An  invitation  to  dine  at  the  Walbridges  was  regarded 
by  them  as  conferring  a  certain  honor.  Their  massive, 
carved  front  doors  did  not  open  indiscriminately  to  peo- 
ple. Their  guests  must  have  some  warrant  of  social  dis- 
tinction, wealth,  or  business  position.  —  some  personal 
weight  which  passed  muster  with  the  world. 

The  gentleman  looked  at  his  wife.  He  was  accustomed 
to  refer  all  home  matters  to  her  opinion,  having  the  high- 
est regard  for  the  lady's  excellent  judgment,  and  a  pro- 


THE  HOLLANBS.  31 

found  faith  that  she  would  always  do  the  thing  that  was 
proper  and  best  under  the  circumstances. 

' '  That  seems  all  right.  What  does  your  mother  say 
of  it?" 

"I've  already  told  Duke  that  I  entirely  approve  of 
the  invitation,  my  dear,"  answered  the  lady ;  and  that  of 
course  settled  the  matter. 

Look  abroad,  my  reader,  over  the  world  of  your  ac- 
quaintances, and  see  if  you  do  not  find  more  than  one 
family  with  a  general  moral  likeness  to  these  Wai- 
bridges. 


32  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER   III. 

DUKE  WALBRIDGE  has  told  you  already  the  story  of 
his  escape  from  drowning,  and  of  his  rescue  by  Ross 
Holland. 

The  latter  had  reached  New  York  at  the  appointed 
time,  but  some  unforeseen  circumstances  had  delayed  for 
three  or  four  days  the  sailing  of  the  vessel  in  which  he 
was  to  take  passage  for  the  East  Indies. 

Meanwhile,  the  house  with  which  he  was  connected 
having  some  business  engagement  to  complete  with  a  firm 
in  an  inland  city  in  Massachusetts,  it  was  suggested  that 
Ross  should  relieve  the  partners  of  the  journey.  If  the 
matter  was  satisfactorily  accomplished,  about  Avhich  there 
was  little  doubt,  he  was  to  receive  a  hundred  dollars  and 
the  payment  of  all  expenses. 

He  thought  of  Jessamine.  There  was  just  time  to  re- 
turn and  give  her  a  single  day,  which  the  poor  child 
would  hail  with  rapturous  delight ;  but  there  would  be 
the  terrible  parting  afresh,  and  Ross  shrank  from  the 
thought  of  laying  bare  that  wound  again. 

If  he  accomplished  his  mission,  Jessamine  should  have 
all  that  came  of  it.  He  would  sacredly  devote  the  whole 
proceeds  to  his  sister,  and  there  was  no  telling  what  a 


THE  HOLLANDS.  33 

hundred  dollars  would  be  to  her,  —  smiling  a  little  over 
that  thought. 

There  was  no  doubt  Ross  would,  in  the  end,  be  doing 
Jessamine  the  greater  kindness  by  making  this  journey 
in  her  interests,  instead  of  seeking  her  again. 

So  Ross  Holland  decided,  and  took  the  Sound  steamer 
that  very  night.  '  You  know  what  happened  then.  Ross 
was  a  brave,  impulsive  fellow,  and  when  he  saw  the  face 
of  Duke  Walbridge,  the  lights  flashing  on  it  as  it  went 
over  into  the  sea,  all  that  was  generous  and  heroic  in  the 
young  soul  thrilled  into  life. 

He  did  think  of  Jessamine  a  moment,  for,  though  he 
was  a  bold  swimmer,  that  was  a  black  sea,  and  it  was  at 
no  slight  risk  that  he  entered  it. 

But  again  the  light  streamed  full  on  the  face,  with  the 
loud,  hungry  waves  after  it ;  the  face  he  had  sat  next  to 
a  little  while  ago  at  supper,  and  been  singularly  struck 
with  some  power  and  expression  in  it. 

'<  Perhaps  he  has  a  sister  too,"  was  the  thought  that 
sent  Ross  Holland  into  that  midnight  sea,  and  God's  hand 
drew  him  wut  and  set  him  on  the  steamer  again,  —  him 
and  Duke  Walbridge. 

Ross  Holland  went  to  the  Walbridges  that  evening  a 
little  against  his  will.  In  the  first  place,  nothing  em- 
barrassed him  more  painfully  than  any  talk  over  what  he 
had  done  that  night.  It  made  a  glow  of  grateful  pleas- 
ure about  his  heart  to  know  how  Duke  felt  over  it ;  for, 
shy  and  reticent  as  Ross  was  by  nature,  something  had 
drawn  him  toward  the  young  man,  just  as  he  had  never 
been  drawn  to  any  human  being  before. 


34  THE  HOLLANDS. 

In  the  second  place,  he  had  an  instinct  that  he  should 
not  like  his  friend's  family,  or  at  least  not  be  at  ease 
among  them. 

Perhaps  Ross  did  not  consciously  admit  this  to 
himself;  nevertheless,  there  the  feeling  lurked.  He  had 
learned  during  his  stay  in  the  town  that  the  Walbridges 
were  wealthy,  ambitious  people,  and  this,  with  some 
other  careless  remarks,  had  given  him  a  little  insight  into 
the  family  quality,  and  he  shrank  from  it. 

However,  there  was  no  way  of  declining  the  invitation 
except  by  hurting  his  friend.  Ross  was  to  return  that 
night  to  New  York,  and  he  consoled  himself,  remember- 
ing that  the  dinner  must  be  a  short  one. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  Walbridges  had  their 
secret  embarrassments  too,  —  the  elder  members  of  the 
family  at  least,  the  younger  ones  being  quite  too  eager 
with  curiosity  for  anything  of  that  sort. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  desired  to  do  what  was 
proper,  and  to  be  expected  of  them  under  the  circum- 
sta:>  -„ ,  but  the  trouble  seemed  to  be  to  find  out  just 
vhat  that  was. 

Here  they  were,  under  overwhelming  obligations  to 
the  young  man  who  had  rescued  their  son  from  drowning, 
and  there  was  no  way  of  cancelling  the  tremendous  debt. 
All  their  wealth  could  not  do  it.  Nay.  it  would  be  an 
unpardonable  insult  to  suggest  money  in  connection  with 
such  a  deed. 

It  Avas  a  most  delicate  and  difficult  matter  to  deal  with ; 
but  there,  like  a  great  many  other  uncomfortable  facts, 
it  stood. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  35 

Great  a  sensation  as  Ross  Holland  certainly  made, 
when  he  presented  himself  at  the  Walbridges,  there  was 
nothing  very  remarkable  about  him ;  a  moderately  good- 
looking,  quiet  youth,  not  lacking  a  certain  self-possession, 
if  he  did  color  easily  to  the  roots  of  his  hair. 

The  girls  watched  with  a  great  deal  of  eagerness  the 
meeting  between  their  brother  and  his  preserver. 

"  I  do  believe,"  said  Eva,  afterward,  in  talking  it  all 
over  to  her  sisters,  ' '  that  they  would  have  hugged  each 
other  like  girls,  if  we  hadn't  been  present." 

Mr.  Walbridge,  to  whom  his  son  presented  Ross,  made 
a  speech  on  the  occasion,  expressing  his  deep  sense  of  the 
obligations  under  which  he  lay  to  the  preserver  of  his 
son's  life  ;  but  the  man  really  would  have  felt  much  more 
comfortably  when  he  got  to  the  end  of  his  remarks,  if  he 
could  have  taken  a  check  in  high  figures  from  his  pocket- 
book,  placed  it  in  Ross  Holland's  hands,  and  said, 
' '  There !  that  makes  all  square  between  us  !  " 

Then  it  came  Mrs.  Walbridge's  turn.     That  lady  did 
her  part  in  a  manner  becoming  the  occasion.     When  did  '• 
she  ever  do  otherwise  ?     No  doubt  there  was  some  real 
feeling  underlying  the  finely  rounded  phrases,  fitting  into 
each  other  like  a  mosaic. 

When  she  came  to  stand  face  to  face  with  the  youth, 
without  whom  the  strength  and  pride  of  her  household 
must  have  been  lying  stark  and  cold  in  his  unfathomable 
ocean  grave,  and  her  own  heart  desolate  with  an  unutter- 
able anguish,  no  doubt  the  mother  for  a  moment  almost 
overmastered  everything  else  in  the  feeling  of  the  woman. 
Her  voice  swayed,  the  tears  slipped  into  her  eyes,  she 


36  THE  HOLLANDS. 

grasped  the  hand  of  Ross  Holland  in  both  her  own,  and 
her  pretty  speech  was  not  finished  just  as  she  had  con- 
templated. 

Afterward,  the  introductions  to  the  sisters  were  easily 
gotten  over.  All  the  young  ladies  were  disposed  to  be 
cordial  to  their  brother's  friend. 

Still,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  felt,  I  think,  a  little 
sense  of  relief  when  so  much  of  the  programme  was  gone 
through  with.  Perhaps  it  was  not  altogether  unnatural. 
No  matter  how  superficially  one  regards  human  nature, 
one  cannot  help  perceiving  that  this  gratitude  is  a  difficult 
thing  to  deal  with.  Those  who  are  largely  entitled  to  it 
generally  regard  themselves  as  wronged  and  neglected. 
No  doubt  there  is  a  great  deal  of  truth  in  it ;  but  there 
is  something  to  be  said  on  the  other  side.  A  burden  of 
obligation  is  apt  to  press  heavily  on  the  recipient,  and 
give  him  a  certain  sense  of  discomfort,  unless  there  is  a 
very  fine  sense  of  sympathy  between  him  and  his  bene- 
factor. This  is,  perhaps,  not  oftenest  the  case.  The 
'  people  who  are  the  most  generous  in  gifts  have  not  always 
the  finest  instincts,  the  broadest  natures.  They  may  be 
ready  to  lavish  gifts  on  you  with  one  hand,  and  take  a 
pleasure  sometimes  —  so  full  of  inconsistencies  is  human 
nature  —  in  chafing  you  where  you  are  weakest  arid 
most  sensitive. 

Now,  no  kindnesses  can  grant  one  indemnity  for  the 
other  wrong.  There  will  only  be  secret  chafing  and  in- 
dignation, if  not  open  revolt,  all  aggravated  by  the  sense 
of  obligations  ;  for  a  blow  falls  doubly  heavy  from  hands 
that  have  bestowed  much  on  us.  A  man  may  give  you 


THE  HOLLANDS.  S7 

all  his  possessions,  may  risk  his  life  to  save  yours,  and 
yet  in  the  closest  sense  you  cannot  call  him  friend. 

I  appeal  to  your  own  consciousness,  my  reader,  whether 
this  be  not  true,  — whether  the  deepest  love  of  your  na- 
ture does  not  take  its  root  in  a  soil  that  lies  deeper  than 
all  gifts,  —  whether  any  claims  of  gratitude  can  ever  com- 
pel your  affection.  But,  for  all  that,  a  lofty  and  finely 
tempered  heart  forgets  much  in  those  who  have  served  it 
—  keeps  faith  with  itself  in  grateful  loyalty  to  its  bene- 
factor. 

Ross  Holland  was  the  only  stranger  at  the  Walbridge 
dinner-table  that  day.  The  hostess  had  some  internal 
misgivings  about  her  guest's  being  equal  to  the  mysteries 
of  finger-glasses  and  nut-pickers  :  but  she  soon  satisfied 
herself  that  Ross  was  at  home  here ;  and  really,  when 
you  came  to  compare  them,  he  had  quite  as  much  the 
look  and  bearing  of  a  gentleman  as  her  own  son,  neither 
being  an  Adonis  in  face  or  figure. 

There  was,  however,  a  natural  refinement  in  the  Hol- 
land blood,  which  the  last  who  bore  the  name  had  inher- 
ited, —  some  native  instinct  of  the  boy  and  girl  always 
shrinking  from  coarseness  and  vulgarity  as  from  some- 
thing whose  touch  soiled  and  defiled. 

Anything  so  ambitious  as  the  Walbridges'  style  of  liv- 
ing was,  of  course,  quite  new  to  Ross,  and  the  ceremonial 
was  a  little  embarrassing  to  one  unaccustomed  to  it. 

But  Duke  sat  next  to  his  friend,  and  there  was  a  mag- 
netism in  the  young  man  that,  when  he  chose  to  exert  it, 
would  thaw  almost  any  nature  into  life  and  ease.  He 
and  Ross  were  soon  launched  on  a  full  tide  of  talk,  the 


38  THE  HOLLANDS. 

others  listening,  complacent  and  curious,  and  inter- 
spersing their  own  remarks. 

Through  all  this,  Mrs.  Walbridge,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed, felt  a  strong  desire  to  know  something  of  the  char- 
acter and  position  of  the  stranger  at  their  board,  who 
had  established  his  right  there  so  clearly,  and  whom  no 
amount  of  courtesies  and  patronage  could  place  in  any 
relation  but  that  of  creditor.  Mrs.  Walbridge  was,  of 
course,  quite  too  well  bred  to  be  inquisitive.  Still, 
there  were  plenty  of  proper  and  natural  questions  to  ask, 
which]  might  serve  as  chinks  through  which  she  could 
get  a  glimpse  into  the  antecedents  of  Ross  Holland. 
When  the  fruits  were  brought  on,  she  attempted  one  of 
these  crannies. 

"I  think  your  family  must  be  very  reluctant  to  let- 
ting you  go  off  on  this  long  journey,  Mr.  Holland.  I  sup- 
pose, however,  they  regard  it  best  to  indulge  a  young 
man's  desire  to  see  all  sides  of  the  world.  The  expe- 
rience has  its  advantages  too." 

The  young  men  had  been  talking,  sometimes  soberly, 
sometimes  merrily,  with  each  other.  Now  the  light  in 
Ross  Holland's  face  went  down  suddenly. 

11 1  have  no  family  to  regret  my  going,  ma'am,  except 
one  sister,  the  last  that  is  left  of  our  kin." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  how  can  she  let  you  go?  "  put  in  Eva, 
who  sat  on  the  other  side  of  Ross.  "If  it  was  Duke, 
now,  I  couldn't  part  with  him,  no  matter  if  he  could  see, 
as  mamma  says,  every  side  of  the  world." 

Now,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  Ross  Holland  was  sore 
over  his  family  history.  It  was  not  singular  perhaps. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  39 

That  long  struggle  with  poverty  could  not  fail  to  leave 
its  mark  upon  a  sensitive  nature. 

Yet  the  morbidness  was  not  of  an  ignoble  sort.  Ross 
Holland's  face  flushed,  but  a  kind  of  brave  scorn  looked 
out  of  his  eyes  now.  "  I  am  not  going  to  see  the  world," 
he  said.  "  I  would  not  leave  my  sister  alone  here  for  all 
it  can  hold.  We  are  very  poor,  and  I  go  to  the  East  In- 
dies solely  with  the  hope  of  making  a  little  money." 

The  words  made  a  sensation  at  the  table.  People  were 
not  in  the  habit  of  talking  in  just  that  way  at  the  Wai- 
bridge  board.  But,  whatever  Ross  might  say,  they  could 
not  take  exceptions,  as  they  might  in  the  case  of  ordi- 
nary guests.  Their  relations  and  his  were  anomalous, 
and  placed  him  in  a  large  sense  above  criticism. 

A  little  silence  followed,  during  which  Mr.  Walbridge 
said  to  himself,  "Was  that  a  hint  now,  forme  to  put 
my  hand  in  my  pocket  and  take  out  something  substan- 
tial ? ' '  Then  he  met  the  eyes  of  his  guest,  and  some 
heat  that  blazed  in  them  satisfied  the  gentleman  that  no 
purpose  of  that  sort  had  ever  entered  the  soul  of  Ross 
Holland. 

The  truth  was,  that  young  man  had  an  instinct  of  the 
estimation  in  which  poverty  was  held  by  the  people 
around  him,  and  it  was  this  that  had  forced  out  his  ac- 
knowledgment of  it.  A  brave  soul,  you  see,  whatever 
its  faults  were. 

However  it  might  have  been  in  ordinary  cases,  the 
Walbridges  treated  Ross  with  more  attention,  if  possible, 
after  the  avowal,  on  his  part,  of  poverty.  There  was 
little  time  for  further  talk,  as  it  was  necessary  Ross 


40  THE  HOLLANDS. 

should  leave  almost  as  soon  as  dinner  was  over,  in  order 
to  reach  the  train,  while  Duke  insisted  on  driving  his 
friend  over  to  the  depot  in  his  father's  buggy. 

Those  blooming  girls  in  their  fine  dresses  had  not  af- 
fected Ross  altogether  pleasantly.  It  forced  up  a  strong 
contrast  between  them  and  his  little  sister  Jessamine. 
After  all,  she  was  prettier  and  just  as  ladylike,  with  her 
soft,  quiet  manners.  He  had  never  seen  her  in  anything 
finer  than  a  white  dress,  with  a  flower  or  a  bit  of  bright- 
colored  ribbon  in  her  hair.  "He  should  like  to  get 
some  grand  clothes  on  her," — smothering  down  a  sigh. 

Then  he  remembered  the  hundred-dollar  check  that 
would  be  on  its  way  to  her  before  the  next  sun  had  set, 
snugly  folded  away  in  the  letter  he  had  been  writing  her 
all  day  in  his  thoughts.  He  saw  the  fair  face  breaking 
up  into  wonder  and  smiles  and  tears  over  it. 

After  all,  the  grand  dinner  had  been  a  great  bore,  that 
good  fellow,  Duke,  being  the  only  really  pleasant  thing 
about  it,  —  these  thoughts  drifting  across  his  mind  while 
he  was  going  through  his  adieux  with  the  Walbridges. 

The  elders  were  particularly  cordial  and  lavish  of  good 
wishes  for  his  future  welfare,  —  "  very  fine  speeches," 
Ross  thought  them  afterward,  for  the  youth  had  a  slight- 
ly cynical  way  of  putting  things  to  himself,  although  un- 
derlying this  little  "  tortuous  rind"  of  bitterness  was  a 
sound  mellow  core  of  good  nature,  —  and  the  young 
ladies  beamed  their  brightest  parting  smiles  upon  him. 

Mr.  Walbridge  took  the  address  of  the  house  with 
which  Ross  was  to  be  connected  in  the  East  Indies,  and 
informed  the  young  man  that  any  indirect  influence 


THE  HOLLANDS.  41 

which  he  might  possess  with  its  heads  should  be  exerted 
in  his  behalf,  —  one  of  those  fine,  vague  promises  which 
serve  the  moment,  and  so  seldom  amount  to  anything? 

The  pleasantest  thing  about  the  whole  visit  was,  how- 
ever, the  last  that  happened.  Just  as  Ross  was  leaving 
the  room,  Eva  Walbridge  hurried  in  from  the  conserva- 
tory with  a  couple  of  moss-roses  in  her  hand, —  all  dewy 
bloom  and  fragrance.  The  child  hurried  eagerly  up  to 
Ross.  "  I've  just  cut  them  from  my  bush  for  you,"  she 
said.  "  There  were  no  more  on  it ;  but  I  wanted  to  give 
them  to  you  for  Duke's  sake  ;  and  —  and  —  I  thought 
you  might  like  to  keep  them,  and  some  time  when  you 
looked  at  them  away  off  in  that  other  part  of  the  world, 
you'd  know  I  hadn't  forgotten  what  you  did  for  my 
brother." 

The  eyes  of  Ross  Holland  warmed  on  the  girl,  as  they 
had  only  warmed  on  her  brother  that  day.  ' '  Thank 
you,"  he  said,  taking  the  flowers.  "  I  shall  keep  them 
carefully  among  my  few  treasures,  and  when  they  are 
faded  and  withered,  they  will  be  beautiful  in  my  eyes,  be- 
cause, you  know,  they  will  be  the  flowers  of  home." 

Then  he  went  away. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  felt  relieved  now  it  was  over, 
and  yet  not  just  satisfied  with  themselves.  It  seemed  as 
though  they  ought  to  have  done  something  more  or  bet- 
ter if  they  had  only  known  how. 

"Really,  my  dear,  that  was  very  thoughtful  and 
pretty,  —  giving  the  young  man  those  flowers ;  alto- 
gether proper  and  graceful." 

"  0  mamma !  I  never  thought  of  being  proper  or 
4 


42  THE  HOLLANDS. 

graceful.  I  only  wanted  to  give  him  something  that  I 
loved,  because  of  what  he  had  done  for  us  all,"  an- 
SAfered  the  youngest  of  the  Walbridges. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  him,  on  the  whole,  .Edith  ?  " 
asked  another  of  the  sisters,  the  elder's  gauge  of  people 
being  regarded  as  final  in  the  family. 

"  There's  no  fault  to  find  with  his  appearance  or  man- 
ners, as  I  know  of;  yet  I  somehow  had  a  feeling  all  the 
time,  that  he  was  not  used  to  the  best  society." 

"  0  Edith !  how  angry  Duke  would  be  to  hear  you 
criticise  him  in  that  way!  "  said  Eva. 

"  His  saving  Duke's  life  is  one  thing,  and  his  breed- 
ing is  another.  I  can't  see  what  possible  connection 
there  is  between  them,"  answered  the  young  lady,  with 
the  air  of  one  who  perfectly  understood  what  she  was 
talking  about. 

"  But,"  answered  Eva,  who  manifested,  at  times,  a 
little  of  Duke's  uncomfortable  tenacity  of  conviction, 
"  it  does  not,  after  all,  seem  quite  generous  and  noble  to 
criticise  the  preserver  of  Duke's  life,  just  as  one  would 
any  stranger,  —  do  you  think  so,  mamma  ?  " 

Thus  appealed  to,  Mrs.  Walbridge  hardly  knew  what 
to  say,  so  she  compromised  the  matter.  ' '  When  you  are 
a  little  older,  my  dear,  you  will  see  the  matter  as  Edith 
does.  She  means  perfectly  right,  and  SD  do  you." 

Eva  looked  grave  a  moment,  trying  to  discern  the  truth 
through  the  mist  in  which  her  mother's  speech  enveloped 
the  matter.  She  did  not  succeed  very  well,  and  there  was 
no  help  for  it,  but  to  fall  back  on  the  future  years  which 
were  to  make  both  sides  seem  right  to  her.  Suddenly 


THE  HOLLANDS.  43 

the  girl's  face  brightened:  "I  thtfught  it  was  real 
noble  in  that  young  fellow  to  own  right  up,  in  that  out- 
spoken way,  that  he  was  poor,  and  going  off  to  the  ends 
of  the  world  to  make  a  fortune  for  himself  and  his  sis- 
ter. I  know  Duke  liked  it,  too,  by  the  way  his  eyes 
sparkled." 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  answered  another  of  the  girls, 
with  a  little  laugh.  "  Duke  always  likes  outspoken  in- 
dependence of  that  kind." 

"Well,  who  doesn't,  with  any  sense?"  asked  Eva, 
in  her  blunt,  girlish  way. 

Nobody  answered ;  but  the  Walbridges  were  not  quite 
certain  whether  they  liked  these  qualities  or  not,  and  had 
a  feeling,  too,  that  it  would  not  be  to  their  credit  to  ad- 
mit the  doubt. 

Meanwhile,  the  young  men  were  on  their  way  to  the 
depot.  Of  a  sudden  Duke  gathered  up  the  reins  in  one 
hand  and  laid  the  other  on  his  companion's  shoulder. 
"  My  dear  fellow,  there  is  so  much  I  want  to  say  to  you 
in  these  last  moments,  if  I  could  only* get  at  it." 

"  Plunge  right  in  then.  That's  the  way  I  do  when  I 
get  stuck  fast,"  answered  Ross,  the  gayety  of  his  air  and 
manner  covering  some  graver  feeling  beneath  it. 

"If  I  could  only  do  something  for  you, —  be  of  some 
service  to  you.  ^Be  generous  now,  Holland,  and  place 
yourself  in  my  case.  You've  saved  my  .life.  That 
covers  the  whole  ground  of  my  debt,  —  the  greatest 
one  man  can  owe  to  another,  and  of  course  we're  both 
above  looking  at  it  in  that  light.  Still,  it's  a  comfort  to 
a  fellow  to  do  some  favor  to  one  who  has  received  from 


44  THE   HOLLANDS. 


another  what  I  have  at  your  hands,  and  I  think  it  isn't 
just  generous  to  deny  him  that  little  crumb  of  pleasure." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I'd  give  you  the  whole  loaf,  if  it  lay 
in  my  power." 

*""  It  does,  Holland.  You  can  let  me  serve  you  some- 
how. You  can  find  out  some  way.  You  know  how 
eager  I  am  to  do  this." 

Ross  looked  up  in  the  face  of  his  companion,  and 
caught  the  glow  upon  it,  which  lifted  the  face  of  Duke 
Walbridge  into  new  life  and  beauty,  as  some  sunsets  do 
the  clouds  hanging  dull  and  incoherent  about  a  western 
sky,  gathering  them  all  up  in  one  grand  blaze  of  color. 

Ross  mused  a  moment.  ' '  There  is-  one  favor  you  can 
do  for  me,  Walbridge." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Duke,  with  a  kind  of  greedi- 
ness, which  at  almost  any  other  time  would  have  made 
Ross  smile.  • 

"  There's  my  sister,  Jessamine,  —  it's  been  like  tearing 
the  very  heart  out  of  her  to  give  me  up  to  go  on  this 
long  journey,  with  all  its  risks,  you  know.  If  we  should 
never  see  each  other  again  —  "  There  he  broke  down  a 
moment. 

"Anything,  — ask  anything  for  her  of  the  life  you 
saved,  Holland." 

Ross  gathered  up  his  voice,  forced  it  into  a  kind  of 
husky  steadiness  again.  "  I  should  like  you  to  be  a  sort 
of  brother  to  her,  —  see  that  no  harm  comes  to  her. 
Poor  thing  !  she's  nobody  in  the  world  but  me,  —  a  shy, 
simple-hearted,  loving  child.  It  would  break  her  heart 
if  anything  happened  to  me." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  45 

"Holland,  answer  me  one  question,"  said  Duke,  with 
a  kind  of  solemn  authority  in  his  tones  ;  "  didn't  you 
think  of  your  sister  before  you  went  overboard  that 
night  for  me  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  thought  of  her, — little  Jessamine.  And 
then  I  thought  perhaps  you,  too,  had  a  sister  at  home, 
and  plunged  in." 

For  a  minute  Duke  did  not  speak.  Then  he  added 
solemnly,  as  one  who  takes  an  oath  on  his  soul,  to  be 
held  through  all  the  after  life,  "  If  anything  comes  to 
you,  Holland,  I  will  take  your  place,  as  far  as  I  can,  to 
your  sister." 

Ross  smiled,  —  a  smile  Duke  would  never  forget.  "  I 
shall  go  off  with  a  lighter  heart  now,"  he  said. 

"  I  shall  take  it  on  myself,  too,  to  go  up  and  see  your 
'little  Jessamine'  right  off,"  continued  Duke,  "  and  tell 
her  all  that  has  happened." 

Ross  Holland's  first  thought  grasped  eagerly  at  this 
offer ;  but  the  second  one  convinced  him  that  it  would 
not  be  well  for  Jessamine  to  learn  at  once  of  the  peril 
into  which  he  had  plunged.  It  would  only  fill  the  child's 
heart  with  fresh  forebodings  and  terrors.  The  hundred 
dollars  would  seem  like  a  sudden  fortune  rained  down 
upon  her,  and  that  would  be  surprise  and  delight  enough 
for  the  present.  So  he  answered  Duke  Walbridge, 
"  Just  wait  until  I  get  safe  and  sound  at  the  East  Indies 
before  you  hunt  her  up,  Walbridge.  I'd  rather  she 
shouldn't  know  just  yet  what  we've  gone  through.  You 
can  do  her  more  good,  and  me  too,  by  waiting  a  few 
months  before  you  go  to  see  her.  Meanwhile,  I  shall 


46  THE  HOLLANDS. 

feel  as  though  I  left  my  little  Jessamine  in  your 
hands." 

"Jessamine,  Jessamine.  That  is  an  odd  name,  —  a 
pretty  one  too,"  said  Duke. 

"  It  is  more  than  that  to  me,"  answered  her  brother. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  depot,  and  there 
were  only  a  few  moments  to  spare.  They  wrung  each 
other's  hands  silently ;  they  thought  of  the  long  years 
and  the  wide  oceans  that  were  to  roll  betwixt  them  be- 
fore they  should  look  upon  each  other's  faces  again. 
There  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of  both. 

The  bell  rang.  Then  these  two  —  Duke  Walbridge 
and  Ross  Holland  —  did  what  Eva  had  said  they  would 
do  if  they  had  been  women,  —  kissed  each  other,  and  with 
never  a  word  more,  each  turned  his  own  way.. 

But  Duke  stood  on  the  platform  and  watched  the  train 
which  bore  away  the  friend  that  he  loved  best  on  earth, 
—  the  friend  who  had  risked  his  life  to  save  his. 

Then  he  entered  his  carriage ;  but,  before  he  started 
for  home,  he  wrote  down  in  his  note-book  the  name  of 
Jessamine  Holland,  and  of  the  old  country  town  where 
she  resided. 

"  Just  as  though  I  should  forget  it !  " — smiling  a  little 
to  himself  as  he  slipped  book  and  pencil  back  into  his 
pocket.  "  Little  Jessamine  !  I  did  not  ask  him;  but 
she  must  be  a  child,  —  I  fancy  somewhere  about  Eva's 
age." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  47 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THREE  years  and  more  had  passed  since  Duke  Wai- 
bridge  and  Ross  Holland  had  parted  at  the  depot.  Dur- 
ing almost  this  entire  period  the  former  had  been  abroad. 
His  father  had  suddenly  discovered  symptoms  of  apo- 
plexy, and  the  physicians  had  urged  a  sea-voyage  for  the 
gentleman. 

So  it  was  suddenly  settled  that  Duke  should  accom- 
pany his  father,  and  complete  his  studies  in  Germany, 
while  Mrs.  Walbridge  and  Edith  should  make  the  grand 
tour  of  Europe.  Mr.  Walbridge' s  health  had  improved, 
but  his  foreign  business  relations  had  detained  him  abroad 
longer  than  he  anticipated. 

Duke  had,  however,  outstayed  all  the  others  by  nearly 
two  years.  He  was  of  just  that  age  when  foreign  study 
and  travel  are  apt  to  turn  young  heads  a  little ;  but  his 
family  affirmed  that  Duke  had  returned  just  as  he  went. 
They  could  not  see  that  there  was  a  particle  of  change 
in  the  fellow.  He  had  grown  a  little  taller  and  better 
looking,  that  was  all. 

But  here  the  family  judgment  was  superficial.  Duke's 
growth  was  not  on  the  surface  ;  but  during  these  yea.rs 
his  whole  character  had  widened  ;  his  thought,  convic- 


48  THE  HOLLANDS. 

tions,  modified  and  shaped  themselves.  Contact  with  the 
world,  with  people  of  varied  civilizations  and  nationali- 
ties, had  changed  and  broadened  the  young  man ;  but 
the  sound,  warm,  steadfast  nature  held  its  own  quality 
still. 

During  this  time  he  had  kept  up  an  intermittent  cor- 
respondence with  Ross  Holland.  The  first  year  in  the 
East  Indies  had  not  been  very  smooth  ones  to  the  young 
American.  His  health  and  habits  did  not  readily  adapt 
themselves  to  the  foreign  climate  and  modes  of  life. 
Still,  Ross  Holland's  soul  was  a  brave  one.  It  fought 
the  battle  •  valiantly  with  homesickness  and  languor, 
through  two  or  three  slow  attacks  of  fever,  among 
strange  faces  and  the  fiery  heat  of  the  tropics. 

Mismanagement,  indolence,  and  extravagance  had  all 
borne  their  part  in  sapping  the  prosperity  of  the  house 
with  which  he  was  engaged  ;  still,  it  had  the  substantial 
foundations  of  an  old  name  and  reputation  to  uphold  it, 
and  Ross  did  his  part  faithfully,  as  he  would  do  it  any- 
where. 

But  his  expenses  were  heavy  in  a  foreign  country,  and 
his  salary  allowed  him  little  margin  beyond  them  and 
an  occasional  remittance  to  Jessamine. 

During  these  years  the  girl  has  been  just  where  we 
left  her,  shut  up  in  the  homely  old  house  whose  rusty 
brown  front  faced  the  hills.  What  else  could  she  do  ? 
Jessamine  Holland  had  no  fortune,  and  no  influential 
friends.  With  the  natural  right  of  her  youth  the  girl 
hungered,  fairly  sickened,  sometimes,  for  a  life  less 
cramped  and  monotonous  ;  for  some  color,  excitement ; 


THE  HOLLANDS.  49 

but  it  did  not  come,  and  so  Jessamine  settled  herself  to 
make  the  best  of  what  she  had,  which  is  the  truest  phi- 
losophy for  the  wisest  of  us. 

The  copying,  too,  whose  remuneration  the  girl  fondly 
hoped  would  defray  most  of  the  expenses  of  her  board, 
had  largely  disappointed  her,  affording  her  employment 
only  at  long  intervals,  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  fall 
back  largely  on  the  remittances  of  Ross,  which  it  cost 
her  high  spirit  a  good  many  struggles  to  do. 

But  Jessamine  told  herself,  with  that  innate  vigor 
that  some  far  dead  ancestor  had  probably  bequeathed  her, 
that  she  was  no't  going  to  rust  out.  It  was  lonely  and 
desolate  enough,  —  only  her  own  soul  and  God  knew 
that, —  with  her  brother  so  far  off,  and  she  left  stranded  in 
the  old  town  with  nothing  to  do.  There  was  a  great 
world  beyond,  where  she  would  like  to  take  her  part,  — 
be  of  some  service ;  but  its  walls  were  high,  and  she 
could  not  find  a  chink  to  creep  through.  Then,  weary 
as  she  was  of  the  old  town,  she  loved  it,  for  it  was  her 
birthplace;  and  though  the  people  were  of  the  nar- 
row, conventional  type,  which  one  is  too  apt  to  find  in 
remote  country  towns,  with  little  elevating  social  stimu- 
lus, or  breadth  of  thought  or  heart  amongst  them, 
still  they  were  the  faces  and  friends  of  the  girl's  child- 
hood and  youth,  —  all  she  ever  had  at  least,  for  the 
Hollands  had  mostly  dropped  out  of  such  society  as  the 
old  town  afforded.  So  the  girl  had  buried  herself  in  her 
studies.  There  was  a  moderately  good  library  in  the 
town,  and  from  this,  and  from  various  other  sources,  she 
managed  to  obtain  most  of  the  books  she  needed. 

5 


50  THE  HOLLANDS. 

It  was  no  dilettante  work  with  this  girl  either.  She 
made  a  solemn  purpose  of  it,  and  studied  like  any  school- 
girl, setting  herself  no  light  tasks,  and  conscientiously 
fulfilling  them,  mastering  Latin  with  the  help  of  the 
clergyman,  and  plunging  as  deeply  into  natural  sciences, 
metaphysics,  and  history  as  her  opportunities  afforded. 

It  was,  perhaps,  a  little  too  much  the  life  of  a  book- 
worm for  a  girl  in  the  blossoming  of  her  years  ;  but  then 
it  was  the  salt  which  saved  Jessamine  Holland  from  the 
frivolity  and  gossip  of  the  little  town  ;  and  mind  and 
heart  ripened  together,  and  in  the  furrows  of  those  slow, 
silent  days,  she  cast  seed  that  brought  forth  their  fair 
harvest  in  the  womanhood  to  come. 

Then  Jessamine  fed  her  young  soul  through  all  this 
time  on  the  letters  of  Ross.  These  always  turned  the 
brightest  side  of  his  lot  towards  her,  never  abating  heart 
or  hope,  and  were  vital  with  that  brave  courage  which 
was  the  very  marrow  of  his  character. 

So  there  came  an  afternoon  when  Jessamine  Holland 
stood  again  on  the  veranda  of  the  rusty  b.rown  cottage, 
as  she  had,  almost  four  years  ago,  when  she  watched, 
white  and  breathless,  for  the  train  as  it  disappeared  in 
the  hollow.  But  it  was  not  October  now,  and  the  year 
had  no  hint  of  chill  or  death  in  it.  It  was  a  June  day, 
one  of  a  cluster  that  had  gone  over  the  earth  in  golden 
pomp,  dying  in  nights  of  starry  splendor.  But  at  this 
time  the  loneliness,  the  homesick  ache  seemed  to  have 
eaten  deeper  into  Jessamine's  soul  than  ever  before. 
The  singing  of  the  birds,  all  the  pomp  and  glory  of 
the  summer,  failed  to  lift  her  out  of  the  darkness  into 


THE  HOLLANDS.  51 

their  own  mood  of  joy  and  strength.  She  had  a  kind  of 
hunted  feeling,  like  one  who  sees  the  walls  close  in  on 
every  side,  and  pants  for  fresher  air  and  wider  horizons. 
What  was  she  in  God's  world,  stranded  there  in  that 'old 
house,  with  people  whose  kindly  thought  and  care  of 
her  did  not  give  them  any  wide  sympathy  into  her  moods 
and  needs  ?  It  seemed  to  the  girl  sometimes  that  the 
chafing  and  the  aching  would  drive  her  mad.  Do  not 
blame  her.  Think  what  her  life  was,  and  how  long  and 
bravely  she  had  borne  it. 

She  wore  a  white  dress  this  afternoon,  —  remembering 
how  fond  Ross  was  of  seeing  her  in  that,  —  a  bit  of  blue 
ribbon  at  her  throat.  When  he  was  a  boy  he  always 
admired  that  color  too,  and  she  had  broken  off  two  or 
thre§  red  roses  from  a  bush  on  one  side  of  the  house,  and 
twisted  them  in  her  hair,  smiling  a  little  to  herself.  As 
she  surveyed  the  whole  in  the  mirror,  the  smile,  however, 
drowned  itself  suddenly  in  bitterness.  "As  though 
there  was  anybody  in  the  world  would  care  how  you 
looked  this  day,  Jessamine  Holland !  Ross  would,  but 
he  can't  see  across  all  these  leagues  of  land  and 
ocean." 

Then  she  went  out  on  the  veranda,  trying  to  find  some- 
thing in  that  June  day,  remembering  that  God  had  set 
it  in  the  world  as  a  sign  and  token  of  his  love  and  bounty ; 
but  just  then  how  far  off  he  seemed  !  Yet  she  stood  there 
in  her  sweet,  delicate  youth,  looking  the  lady  that  she 
was  by  gift  of  that  same  God. 

She  heard  the  gate.  She  remembered  afterward  that 
she  was  too  listless  even  to  look  out  and  see,  through 


52  THE  HOLLANDS. 

the  curtain  of  climbing  vines,  who  was  coming,  taking  it 
for  granted  it  was  some  neighbor  or  child  on  an  errand. 

So  she  did  not  look  up  until  the  stranger  stood  on  the 
steps.  The  girl  gave  a  little  start  then,  her  cheeks 
flushed,  and  at  the  moment  Jessamine  Holland  probably 
looked  prettier  than  she  ever  had  done  in  her  life  before. 

A  gentleman  stood  there,  —  she  knew  he  was  that  with 
the  first  glance,  —  in  a  brown  travelling  suit,  a  good 
deal  dusted.  He  lifted  his  hat.  "Will  you  be  kind 
enough,"  said  a  voice,  so  clear  and  pleasant  that  one 
liked  to  hear  it,  "  to  tell  me  where  Miss  Jessamine  Hol- 
land, the  sister  of  Ross  Holland,  resides?  " 

Jessamine  was  shy ;  her  temperament  and  life  natu- 
rally made  her  so ;  but  for  all  that  she  held  possession 
of  herself. 

"  I  am  Ross  Holland's  sister,"  she  answered,  her  wide 
brown  eyes  on  the  stranger. 

Great,  in  turn,  was  Duke  Walbridge's  surprise.  His 
family  were  at  the  Springs,  some  thirty  miles  off,  and  the 
young  man  had  remembered  his  promise  to  Ross,  and  kept 
faith  with  it  at  last. 

He  had  come  up  here  to  see  the  sister  of  his  benefac- 
tor, with  a  general  idea  of  a  rosy,  unformed  country 
girl.  He  had  debated  in  his  own  mind  whether  some  toy 
would  not  be  acceptable  to  "little  Jessamine,"  and  had 
thought  a  pretty  set  of  jewelry  would  probably  dazzle 
the  eyes  of  a  school-girl. 

But  the  Springs,  though  they  had  a  reputation,  were 
in  an  out-of-the-way  place,  where  jewelry  of  any  sort 
was  quite  unattainable. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  53 

u  No  matter.  I  can  judge  for  myself,  and  get  what  is 
most  appropriate  afterward,  " — settling  the  matter,  and 
not  quite  certain  but  a  wax  doll  would  prove  the  right 
thing  after  all. 

And  this  was  "  little  Jessamine,"  —  this  girl  with  the 
fair,  delicate  face,  so  unlike  any  he  had  ever  seen  before ; 
not  the  beauty,  certainly,  that  strikes  men  in  a  crowd,  but 
that  had  a  power  and  meaning  of  its  own.  There  she  stood, 
among  the  vines,  in  her  simple  white  dress,  with  the  bits  of 
color  at  her  throat,  —  something  with  whom  it  was  quite 
impossible  to  associate  anything  coarse  or  hoydenish,  and 
her  birthdays  had  not  quite  clasped  their  twentieth. 

The  stranger  smiled,  and  came  closer  now.  "  I  am 
Duke  Walbridge,  Miss  Holland.  I  hope  I  am  welcome 
for  your  brother's  sake." 

The  girl  gave  her  hand  at  that  word,  but  there  was  no 
gleam  of  recognition  at  the  name-.  She  had  evidently 
never  heard  of  it. 

"Did  he  never  tell  you?"  asked  Duke,  surprised 
enough  in  his  turn.  - 

She  shook  her  head.     "  I  never  heard  that  name." 

"  It  was  like  him  never  to  speak  of  what  he  did,  Miss 
Holland.  I  owe  your  brother  more  than  I  do  any  living 
man,  for  he  once  saved  my  life." 

"  You  ?  —  Ross  did  ?  "  —  the  sweet  face  more  amazed 
than  ever. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Holland.  The  dear,  generous,  lion-heart- 
ed fellow  jumped  into  the  sea  one  night,  and  dragged  me 
out  of  it  at  the  peril  of  his  own  life ;  and  I  have  come  at 
last  to  tell  you  of  it." 


54  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Her  face  all  alive  now  —  "  How  was  it?  When  was 
it?"  —hardly  knowing  what  she  was  saying  in  her 
eagerness. 

So  Duke  Walbridge  began  at  the  beginning,  and  told 
Jessamine  the  story  as  no  other  could  have  told  it.  He 
had  a  remarkable  gift  of  expression,  but  if  he  had  not 
owned  this,  the  depth  of  his  feeling  must  have  given  a 
wonderful  power  to  his  tale. 

One  saw  it  all,  —  the  wild  night,  the  awful  sea,  the 
life  going  down  into  the  hungry  waves,  the  shouts  of 
the  men,  and  then  the  brave  rescue.  Jessamine  lived  it 
all  over  in  a  shuddering  horror.  It  was  quite  soon 
enough  for  the  tender  heart  to  hear  the  story,  nearly 
four  years  after  it  all  happened.  Ross  had  judged  wise- 
ly. Once  she  caught  hold  of  Duke's  arm,  .not  realizing 
what  she  was  doing.  "  0  Ross,  my  brother  !  my  brother  ! 
if  you  had  been  drowned  then  !  "  — her  face  in  a  shower 
of  tears.  There  were  tears  in  Duke's  eyes. 

"  But  he  did  not,  you  see,  and  here  I  am,  with  the 
life  that  he  saved." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that,  —  glad  that  he  went  to  you,  only 
you  cannot  know  what  he  is  to  me,  —  all  I  have  on  earth, 
and  what  life  would  be  to  me  if  I  lost  him." 

There  was  a  lounge  at  one  end  of  the  veranda.  She 
went  and  sat  down  here  a  few  moments,  and  Duke  knew 
she  was  crying.  He  was  almost  sorry  he  had  told  her. 

But  she  came  back  in  a  little  while,  and  asked  him  to 
go  on  with  the  rest.  "  She's  got  some  of  her  brother's 
pluck,"  thought  Duke  Walbridge.  But  she  swayed 
again  when  he  came  to  tell  her  how  Ross  had  said  that  he 


THE  HOLLANDS.  55 

drew  back  at  that  awful  time  thinking  of  ' '  little  Jessa- 
mine." 

The  rest  of  his  story,  however,  was  easy  sailing.  Duke 
told  the  girl  about  her  brother's  visit  at  their  house,  and 
their  talk  at  parting,  and  the  promise  he  had  made,  and 
why  he  had  been  so  long  in  fulfilling  it. 

After  this,  all  ice  of  formalities,  such  as  requires,  in 
ordinary  cases,  a  good  many  interviews  to  melt,  vanished 
betwixt  these  two. 

Duke  Walbridge  had  one  of  those  natures  that  never 
forgets  its  gratitude.  The  memory  of  the  .vast  debt  he 
owed  would  alone  have  made  the  sister  of  Ross  Holland, 
whatever  might  be  her  intrinsic  character,  an  object  of 
keen  interest  to  Duke,  —  one  whose  welfare  and  happiness 
he  would  have  been  eager  to  promote  at  almost  any  cost  to 
himself;  but  he  had  come  utterly  unprepared  to  find  the 
girl  what,  the  more  he  saw  of  her,  she  proved  to  be. 
The  more  he  saw  of  her,  too,  the  more  she  perplexed 
him,,  by  the  sweet,  genuine  frankness  and  grace  of  her 
speech  and  manner.  ' '  As  much  better  than  the  showy, 
artificial  girls  he  met  in  society,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  as 
a  wide,  fresh  morning  heath  shaken  with  dew,  and  full 
of  fragrance  and  the  gladness  of  sunshine,  was  better 
than  all  the  perfume  and  glitter  and  display  of  some 
splended  drawing-room." 

She  was  like  her  brother,  too,  in  a  good  many  little 
subtle  ways,  difficult  to  analyze,  and  yet  very  readily 
felt. 

How  the  girl  could  live  there  in  that  out-of-the-way 
place,  shut  up  in  a  kindly  but  wholly  uncultivated  fam- 


56  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ily,  and  be  the  instinctive  lady  she  was,  puzzled  Duke 
Walbridge  more  than  anything  had  ever  done  in  his  life. 
The  more  he  talked  with  her,  the  more  she  interested 
him ;  and,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  Jessamine  Holland 
never  had  looked  and  appeared  quite  so  well  as  she  did 
this  afternoon. 

When  she  came  to  think  it  over  after  Duke  had  gone, 
the  whole  thing  seemed  like  a  dream.  He  called  her 
"  little  Jessamine,"  and  then  apologized  several  times, 
corrected  himself,  and  said,  "  Miss  Holland."  But  the 
other  name  was  sure  to  come  first :  and  at  last  he  said, 
with  a  laugh,  "There  is  no  use;  I  have  thought  of 
you  so  long  as  'little  Jessamine,'  that  no  other  name 
will  come  to  me  without  an  especial  effort." 

And  Jessamine  answered,  and  wondered  and  scolded 
at  herself  afterward  for  doing  it,  "Do  not  try  to.  It 
is  the  old  name  that  I  have  not  heard  since  he  went 
away,  and  it  sounds  pleasanter  than  the  first  robin's  song 
did  when  I  heard  it  last  May." 

Their  talk  went  a  great  many  ways.  Duke  Walbridge 
had  that  reverence  for  womankind  that  I  think  is  born 
in  the  soul  of  every  true  man  ;  but,  for  all  that,  his  ideas 
of  young  ladies  had  been  shaped  more  or  less  by  his  sis- 
ter's acquaintances,  and  he  had  a  kincl  of  feeling,  which 
his  fidelity  to  his  ideal  of  womanhood  had  always  pre- 
vented his  expressing,  that  girls  were,  as  a  whole,  super- 
ficial, gossipy,  selfish.  Anything  really  frank,  loyal, 
genuine,  it  seemed  to  him  he  had  yet  to  find  among  the 
young  girls  with  whom  he  was  thrown,  with  their  foolish 
rivalries  of  dress  and  social  distinction. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  57 

Even  to  these  there  was  a  better  side ;  but  Duke  did 
not  find  it ;  partly,  no  doubt,  because  he  did  not  try, 
being  in  a  state  of  disgust  with  young  ladyhood  in 
general.  Indeed,  his  strictures  here  were  so  wholesale 
and  bitter,  that  his  sisters  did  not  hesitate  to  call  him-  a 
bear,  and  to  avow  their  belief  that,  "  Duke  was  born  to 
be  an  old  bachelor." 

But  here  was  a  young  girl  who  had  no  airs,  who 
evidently  had  not  the  faintest  notion  how  to  carry  on  a 
flirtation,  with  all  the  charm,  brightness,  spontaneity  of 
earnest,  intelligent  young  womanhood.  How  alert  she 
was,  too !  how  full  of  eager  curiosity  about  the  great 
world  which  he  had  seen  !  her  questions  slipping  out  in 
a  soft,  breathless,  child-like  way,  that  amused  him.  Once 
through,  she  stopped  of  a  sudden,  the  bright  color  com- 
ing into  her  face  as  it  had  a  habit  of  doing.  "Do  for- 
give me,"  she  said ;  "  but  it  seems  as  though  I  was  talk- 
ing with  Ross." 

"  I  Avant  it  to  seem  just  so.  You  know  what  I  prom- 
ised him."  And  he  went  on,  taking  up  the  thread  of 
his  talk  where  he  had  left  it,  telling  her  all  about  his  sail 
down  the  Rhine,  through  the  golden  girdle  of  just  such 
a  week  of  June  days  last  year. 

"  I  wonder  how  you  manage  to  live  here,  '  little  Jessa- 
mine' ?"  Duke  really  spoke  to  himself,  and  wished  he 
could  call  the  thought  back  the  next  moment. 

A  swift  pain  flashed  into  the  girl's  face.  "  It  is  very 
hard  sometimes.  It  seems  as  though  it  must  kill  me ; 
but  I  don't  think  God  will  let  it  come  to  that ;  and  when 
the  %-orst  happens,  I  try  to  brave  myself  against  the 


5  8  THE  HOLLA  NDS. 

thought  of  the  time  when  Ross  will  come  back,  and  we 
shall  be  together  once  more." 

Just  then  they  caught,  faint  and  far  off  among  the 
hills,  the  sound  of  the  coming  train.  There  was  only- 
time  for  Duke  to  reach  the  depot ;  and  he  had  an  en- 
gagement with  his  sisters  that  night. 

"Next  time  —  for  I  intend  to  come  again  —  I  shall 
stay  longer,  Miss  Holland,  and  meanwhile,  I  shall  take  a 
brother's  privilege,  to  write  you." 

And  her  answer  was  like  herself :  ' '  When  you  come, 
you  shall  be  welcome,  — either  yourself  or  your  letter." 

She  walked  down  to  the  gate  with  him,  and  watched 
him  as  he  went  a\f&y ;  and  long  after  he  was  out  of  sight 
she  still  stood  there,  rubbing  her  eyes,  and  wondering 
whether  his  coming  and  his  going,  and  all  the  story  of 
Duke  Walbridge,  had  not  been  a  dream. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  59 


CHAPTER  V. 

DUKE  WALBRIDGE  had  something  on  his  mind.  In 
fact,  this  had  been  the  case  with  him  for  several  days, 
ever  since  he  had  received  a  letter  with  a  foreign  post- 
mark on  it,  in  reply  to  one  which  he  had  written  to  Ross 
Holland.  Not  that  Duke  regretted  the  letter  which  he 
had  sent  to  his  friend,  but  he  had  a  purpose  to  carry  out, 
and  this  involved  a  good  many  delicate  relations  and 
feelings  on  the  part  of  others ;  and,  although  he  was  the 
prime  mover  in  the  matter,  his  own  position  must,  in  the 
very  nature  of  the  case,  be  a  subordinate  one. 

The  real  truth  was,  Duke  did  not  feel  quite  certain  of 
the  human  nature  with  which  he  must  accomplish  his 
work.  Most  people  have  to  take  this  into  account  in  all 
their  dealings  with  each  other ;  -and  Duke,  like  the  rest 
of  us,  had  to  make  the  best  of  his  materials. 

These  last  reflections  passed  through  his  mind,  —  he 
had  a  quaint,  humorous  habit  of  putting  things  to  him- 
self, like  a  good  many  thoughtful,  reticent  natures,  — 
while  there  was  just  a  hint  of  a  smile  upon  his  lips  as  he 
looked  from  one  member  of  his  family  to  the  other.  He 
did  not  know  it,  much  less  did  they ;  but  he  was  weighing 
each  in  the  balance,  and  something  seemed  wanting. 


60  THE  HOLLANDS. 

This  plan  of  his  furnished  a  kind  of  touchstone,  and 
before  it  the  quality  of  parents  and  sisters  seemed  some- 
how to  fail  the  son  and  brother. 

Duke  sat  there,  his  book  on  his  knee,  a  paper-cutter 
between  the  leaves,  which  he  took  up  and  played  with 
every  few  minutes  in  an  absent  kind  of  way.  Plainly, 
he  was  in  no  mood  for-reading  ;  and  Duke's  silences  and 
little  eccentricities  were  an  accepted  fact  in  the  family, 
to  be  made  the  subject  of  good-natured  criticism  and 
merry  jest,  oftenest  to  his  face. 

His  sisters  had  been  to  a  millinery  opening  that  after- 
noon, and  were  eloquent  over  the  new  styles.  One  of 
the  girls  had  been  particularly  fervid  in  her  description 
to  the  less  favored  of  her  sisters  of  a  hat  which  had  par- 
ticularly attracted  her  fancy.  She  concluded  her  account 
of  the  arrangement  of  flowers,  plumes  and  ribbons,  with, 
—  "0  -girls,  it  was  such  a  love  of  a  bonnet !  " 

"  Gertrude,"  said  Duke,  with  a  flash  of  emphatic  dis- 
gust in  his  face  and  voice,  "don't  ever  use  that  ex- 
pression again.  It  is  suited  to  the  lips  of  only  a  silly, 
frivolous,  afiected  woman.  If  I  should  once  hear  that 
remark,  I  should  never  want  to  Hum  and  look  at  the 
woman  who  made  it.  I  should  know  there  must  be 
something  weak  or  wrong  in  her  head  or  heart." 

"  Who  ever  thought  you  were  listening,  you  old  book- 
worm?" said  Gertrude,  more  amused  than  provoked. 
"This  is  the  first  time  you've  spoken  for  half  an  hour, 
and  now  you're  like  a  bear  coming  out  of  your  den,  and 
shaking  yourself  with  a  growl." 

Gertrude  was  next  to  Edith.     She  had  her  full  share 


THE  HOLLANDS.  61 

of  the  family  good  looks ;  a  graceful,  stylish  girl,  with  the 
bright  bloom  of-her  race. 

The  other  girls  laughed ;  but  Duke  would  never  hear 
that  speech  again  "in  his  household.  His  own  family 
paid  a  certain  tacit  deference  to  his  notions,  having  an 
instinct  that  there  was  something  right  and  sound  at  the 
bottom  of  them. 

There  was  a  lull  in  the  buzz  of  voices.  The  millinery 
and  its  collateral  subjects  had  been  pretty  thoroughly 
exhausted.  Then  Duke  went  over  to  his  mother,  and 
stretched  his  limbs  on  the  lounge  by  her  chair. 

"Mother—  '  He  stopped  there;  he  wished  it  was  out 
and  over,  he  could  hardly  tell  why.  » 

"Well,  my  son." 

Perhaps  she  spoke  that  name  a  little  oftener,  because, 
of  all  the  world,  she  could  only  use  it  to  this  odd  Duke, 
of  whom  she  was  very  fond,  and  in  many  ways  very 
proud,  and  in  some  a  little  afraid. 

"  Pve  heard  you  say,  you  and  all  the  girls,  that  you 
would  be  glad  enough  to  light  upon  some  plan  of  proving 
that  you  remembered  gratefully  what  Ross  Holland  did 
for  me  one  night. 

"  Yes,  Duke.  I  never  felt  quite  easy  about  the  way 
we  let  that  matter  rest ;  neither,  I  think,  did  your  father ; 
but  there  seemed  no  help  for  it." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  I  have  found  a  way  in  which  you 
could  properly  and  delicately  express  that  you  held  in 
grateful  remembrance  that  grand  deed  of  his." 

"How  is  that, «Duke?"  Mrs.  Walbridge's  manner 
showed  no  lack  of  interest. 


62  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"You  could  invite  his  sister  to  pass  the  holidays,  or 
the  winter,  with  us.  She  is  all  alone,  as  I  told  you,  shut 
up  in  that  country-house,  and  I  know  it  would  do  her 
good  to  see  something  of  the  world.  *  I  think  you  owe 
the  girl  so  much  attention  as  this ;  and  that  anybody  who 
knew  the  circumstances  would  wonder  -you  had  not 
thought  of  showing  her  some  courtesy,  —  provided  my 
life  was  of  much  value  to  you." 

This  speech  would  have  proven,  to  a  shrewd  observer, 
that  Duke  Walbridge  was  not  deficient  in  diplomatic 
ability ;  although,  at  present,  he  had  no  wider  scope  than 
his  mother's  drawing-room.  He  certainly  had  set  the 
whole  matter  before  her  in  a  light  most  likely  to  influ- 
ence Mrs.  Walbridge. 

' '  I  never  thought  of  that  before,  Duke.  I  am  not 
certain  but  this  is  a  bright  idea  of  yours.  Still,  I  should 
like  to  turn  the  matter  on  all  sides." 

"  I  can't  see  that  it  has  more  than  one ;  but,  I  suppose, 
it  is  natural  that,  as  my  life  was  saved,  I  should  take  a 
stronger  interest  in  the, matter  than  any  of  the  rest  of 
you." 

Was  that  some  of  Duke's  "irony"?  Mrs.  Wal- 
bridge was  not  quite  certain.  The  whole  subject  was 
one  about  which  she  felt  a  little  uncomfortable  ;  in  short, 
not  quite  as  secure  of  the  ground  which  she  occupied  as 
she  did  of  the  most  of  her  relations  with  all  mankind. 

"  What  are  you  and  Duke  talking  about?  "  asked  one 
of  the  girls,  with  a  natural  hankering  for  a  secret. 

"  On  a  little  private  suggestion  of 'your  brother's,  — 
that  is  all.  Go  on  with  your  nonsense,  girls." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  63 

Mrs.  "VValbridge's  speech  had  just  the  effect  of  quieting 
the  "nonsense"  effectually.  Girls  in  their  teens  have 
always  a  greediness  for  a  mystery. 

"  0  ma,  do  let  us  know  now  !  "  chimed  several  voices, 
while  the  group  gathered  about  the  lounge. 

Duke  felt  a  little  anxiety  to  learn  how  his  sisters 
would  receive  the  proposition  ;  for  upon  their  secret  com- 
plaisance with  this  plan  must  pivot  Jessamine  Holland's 
real  pleasure  in  his  household. 

"  Let  the  girls  know  it,  mother.  It  concerns  them  as 
well  as  us." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  not  unwilling  to  get  the  impres- 
sions of  her  daughters ;  for,  to  tejl  the  truth,  she  was 
herself  dubious  about  this  plan  of  Duke's.  She  was  hos- 
pitably enough  inclined.  But,  after  all,  there  might  be 
some  inconveniences  in  receiving  this  stranger,  who  came 
with  such  claims  to  make  good  her  place  in  the  family. 

"  Well,  then,  Duke  has  just  been  proposing  to  me 
that  we  invite  Miss  Holland  here  for  the  holidays.  He 
thinks  it  the  proper  thing  to  be  done;"  and  you  know  we 
have  all  felt  that  we  owed  her  brother  some  further  ex- 
pression of  our  gratitude.  It  strikes  me  that  this  atten- 
tion to  the  young  man's  sister  is  the  proper  method 
of  manifesting  our  feelings." 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other.  It  was  a  novel  idea. 
They  hardly  knew,  at  first,  how  to  entertain  it. 

"Of  course  she  would  have  to  go  out  with  us,  mam- 
ma? "  asked  one  of  the  daughters. 

"  Of  course  ;  Miss  Holland  would  be  our  guest,  and  we 
should  treat  her,  under  all  circumstances,  as  such." 


64  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"I'd  like  to  see  her,  any  way,"  added  one  of  the 
younger  of  the  group.  "  I  was  so  interested  when  Duke 
returned  from  that  runaway  call  of  his  while  we  were  at 
the  Springs." 

They  had  all  been  this,  for  that  matter ;  making  him 
go  over  and  over  with  his  description  of  Jessamine  Hol- 
land's looks  and  manners,  while  the  young  man  had  sus- 
tained, with  rather  unusual  amiability,  a  ceaseless  round 
of  questions.  It  was  remarkable,  the  interest  and  curi- 
osity which  Jessamine  Holland  had  created  in  the  Wai- 
bridge  family  ;  and,  somehow,  Duke's  replies  to  all  their 
questioning  rather  stimulated  than  allayed  the  feeling. 
It  was  Edith's  turn  to  speak  now.  Her  opinion  would 
weigh  heavily  in  either  scale. 

"I'm  not  sure,  mamma,  but  it  is  about  the  best  thing 
we  can  do.  So  much  depends,  though  —  " 

"  Well,  go  on,  my  dear." 

' '  We  have  so  many  engagements  for  the  holidays,  and, 
of  course,  Miss  Holland  would  always  accompany  us. 
We  should  want  somebody  who  was  nice,  and  presentable, 
and  all  that,  and  sufficiently  used  to  society  to  show  no 
particular  gaucherie." 

"  But  Duke  says  she's  a  real  lady." 

"  One  of  Nature's  making,"  added  another  of  the 
sisters. 

The  Walbridges,  however,  were  not  absolutely  certain 
about  the  quality  of  that  stamp.  They  had  an  idea  that 
the  best  society  was  a  necessity  to  the  perfection  of  lady- 
hood. 

"  Duke  is  the  one  to  know,  as  he  has  seen  the  young 


THE  HOLLANDS.  65 

lady  ;  and,  even  if  she  were  riot  aufait  in  all  social  mat- 
ters, she  would  soon  learn  whatever  was  necessary,"  gra- 
ciously added  the  mother. 

"  I  don't  think  you  need  have  any  trouble  on  that 
account,"  answered  Duke,  in  his  most  frigid  tones. 

The  subject,  once  started,  did  not  die  easily.  It  was 
discussed,  on  all  its  sides,  by  the  feminine  Walbridges ; 
and,  on  the  whole,  the  more  the  invitation  was^  agitated 
the  more  they  inclined  toward  it. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  did  not  say,  but  she  reflected  that  if 
Miss  Holland  should  prove  herself  an  awkward,  uncul- 
tivated girl,  the  gentility  of  the  Walbridges  would  by  no 
means  be  affected  by  her  propinquity ;  for  it  would  be 
easy  enough  to  have  the  matter  thoroughly  understood 
in  their  set,  and  the  claims  which  Miss  Holland  had  on 
their  gratitude.  This  thought  made  her,  secretly,  more 
inclined  to  the  invitation. 

As  for  Duke,  he  listened,  for  the  most  part,  silent- 
ly. ,The  current  was  setting  in  the  way  he  had  desired, 
and,  in  fact,  foreseen ;  but  the  whole  tone  of  the  conver- 
sation grated  on  him.  It  seemed  to  have  a  hard  worldli- 
ness  about  it,  that  half  irritated,  half  saddened  him.  Yet 
these  women  were  dearer  to  him  than  any  other  in  the 
world,  —  they  were  his  mother  and  his  sisters,  —  and 
he  wished  he  had  not  been  born  with  that  faculty  for  div- 
ing down  through  the  surface  of  things  into  purposes 
and  motives. 

"After  all,  were  not  all  women  like  these?  If  they 
were,  he,  Duke  Walbridge,  might  as  well  make  up  his 
mind  to  remain  a  bachelor  to  the  end  of  his  days.  There 


66  THE  HOLLANDS. 

it  was,  cynical  and  bitter  again;  "  his  thoughts  hunting 
vaguely  up  and  down,  turning  suddenly  in  sharp  revenge 
on  himself. 

When  the  matter  had  been  as  good  as  decided  that 
Mrs.  Walbridge  should  write  the  letter  of  invitation,  for 
the  winter,  to  Miss  Holland,  in  which  every  member  of 
the  family  was  to  join,  —  for  if  the  Walbridges  concluded 
to  do  the  thing  at  all,  there  was  no  doubt  they  would  do 
it  handsomely,  —  somebody  suggested  that  perhaps  the 
young  lady  might  hesitate  to  come  before  informing  her 
brother,  as  the  compliment  was,  after  all,  indirectly  to 
himself,  and  no  exchange  of  letters  could  take  place 
between  New  York  and  the  East  Indies  before  the  holi- 
days, now  at  hand. 

It  was  Duke's  time  to  speak  now.  "  I  forestalled  all 
that.  Before  I  left  the  Springs  I  just  wrote  to  young 
.Holland,  relating  my  visit  to  his  sister,  and  entreating, 
as  an  especial  favor  to  us  all,  that  he  would  urge  his 
sister  to  make  this  visit.  You  know  he  is  not  the  sort 
of  stuff  that  takes  favors  easily,  and  I  had  to  feel  my 
way  cautiously.  But  I  succeeded  in  getting  the  consent 
in  his  reply ;  given,  though,  I  see  clearly,  with  some  in- 
ward doubt  or  reluctance.  I  suppose  that,  however, 
will  not  crop  out  in  his  note  to  his  sister,  which  he 
encloses  with  mine,  and  which  is  to  satisfy  her  about  the 
propriety  of  this  visit.  I  shall  enclose  hers  with  the 
invitation." 

"  I  cannot  help  thinking,,  Duke,  that  it  would  have 
been  wiser  to  consult  us  before  you  had  proceeded  so 
far  in  this  matter.  Circumstances  might  have  made 


THE  HOLLANDS.  67 

it  inconvenient  to  receive  your  friend's  sister  at  this 
time." 

Mrs.  Walbridge's  tone  showed  that  lady  not  very  well 
pleased  at  this  summary  way  of  passing  her  over. 

' '  I  could  hardly  conceive  of  any  circumstances  strong 
enough  to  prevent  a  courtesy  of  this  kind  to  one  where  I, 
at  least,  owe  so  much.  In  that  case,  however,  I  knew 
my  friend,  and  could  make  it  right  with  him ;  so  I  con- 
sulted nohody." 

"It  was  just  like  one  of  Duke's  odd  ways  of  doing 
things,  mamma,"  volunteered  the  youngest  but  one  of 
the  daughters ;  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  was  obliged  to  be 
content  with  this  explanation. 

After  the  matter  had  been  settled,  and  Duke  had 
gained  his  point,  he  went  back  to  the  table  and  his  arm- 
chair ;  still,  he  did  not  feel  satisfied,  as  a  man  naturally 
would  who  has  carried  a  delicate  bit  of  diplomacy  to  a 
successful  issue.  A  good  many  of  those  miserable  doubts, 
which  come  to  chill  us  all,  after  we  have  achieved  some 
purpose  on  which  we  have  strenuously  set  our  'minds, 
came  now  to  harass  Duke  Walbridge. 

Would  this  visit  of  Jessamine  Holland's  be  really 
pleasant  to  her,  after  all  ?  Shy,  sensitive,  impressible, 
would  she  not  feel  the  family  atmosphere,  and  apprehend, 
if  she  did  not  comprehend,  the  observation  and  criticism 
of  which  she  certainly  would  be  the  object?  He  had  no 
fear  on  the  score  of  attention  and  politeness  ;  but  there 
was  something  that  went  deeper  than  that :  would  there 
be  any  generous  and  hearty  warmth  in  welcoming  to  their 
home  the  fair  and  bewildered  young  stranger,  setting  her 


68  THE  HOLLANDS. 

at  her  ease,  in  the  midst  of  the  luxury  and  splendor,  and 
giving  her  a  sense  of  dropping  into  some  downy-lined 
nest  of  shelter  and  comfort  ?  Thinking  these  thoughts, 
Duke  Walbridge  gave  a  sudden  blow  with  his  foot  to  a 
small  ottoman  at  his  feet,  and  turned  it  over,  —  an  ebulli- 
tion of  the  doubt  and  irritability  that  was  in  him. 

Eva  noticed  the  movement.  "You  pushed  that  over 
as  though  you  were  angry  at  somebody  or  something, 
Duke." 

"  Perhaps  I  was  at  both  a  little,"  —  with  that  grim  look 
on  his  face,  which  never  came  without  something  wrong 
lay  beneath  it. 

"Is  it  because  Miss  Holland  is  really  to  come  and  see 
us?  "  asked"  Eva,  trying  a  bit  of  joke. 

She  had  no  answer.  Duke  turned  and  looked  at  his 
sister  a  moment,  with  that  look  peculiar  to  him,  and  that 
always  went  deeper  than  one's  face.  "  Are  you  glad  she 
is  coming,  Eva?  "  he  asked,  at  last. 

"Why,  yes;  I'm  delighted,  Duke.     Aren't 'you  ?" 

"  I'm  not  certain." 

"  Why,  I  thought  you'd  quite  set  your  heart  on  it, 
and  was  the  prime  mover  in  the  whole  affair." 

"  That  doesn't  prevent  my  being  doubtful  whether  it 
is  a  wise  experiment,  —  whether  the  sister  of  my  friend 
will  really  enjoy  herself  among  us." 
**"  Why,  how  can  she  help  it  ?  "  asked  Eva.  as  though 
the  family  hospitality  was  somehow  attacked.  "  I'm 
sure  we  shall  do  all  we  can  to  make  it  pleasant  for  her." 

"  Yes  ;  but  you  know  we  are  peculiar  people,  Eva." 

"  Peculiar  !     How  do  you  mean,  Duke?  " 


THE   HOLLANDS.  69 

"  We're  very  polite  and  genteel  people  ;  and  no  doubt 
\ve  shall  do  all  that  is  proper ;  but  I  think,  too,  we  shall 
be  a  little  patronizing,  and  that  Miss  Holland  will  feel  it, 
and  be  chilled  by  it." 

"  I  think  you  are  rather  hard  on  your  family,  Duke," 
said  Eva ;  but  she  said  it  as  one  upon  whose  mind  a  new 
light  is  beginning  to  dawn. 

"Well,  doesn't  it  strike  you  so,  little  sister  ?"  —  hia 
lookgrowing.less  grim.  "  Just  think,  now,  for  a  moment, 
that  you  are  in  Miss  Holland's  place,  —  a  young  girl, 
born  and  reared  afar  from  cities,  and  shy  as  wood-birds 
and  fawns  and  all  those  pretty,  graceful  creatures ;  but 
a  lady,  one  of  Nature's  making  to  the  core.  Now,  just 
imagine  yourself  suddenly  launched  out  upon  a  new  life. 
—  a  timid,  lonely  girl,  among  people  whom  you  had 
never  seen  before,  —  would  the  handsome  house,  would  all 
the  formal  civilities,  satisfy  your  heart?  Wouldn't  that 
want  something  more  to  put  warmth  and  ease  into  it?  " 

"  Yes,  it  would,  Duke." 

"  And  supposing  you  should  feel  all  the  time  that  the 
people  among  whom  you  had  fallen  were  watchful,  ex- 
acting, critical ;  that,  when  your  back  was  turned,  they 
discussed  you  with  a  well-bred  pity  and  contempt  for 
any  little  local  breach  of  etiquette  of  which  you  might 
be  guilty;  though  a  lady,  mind.  I  say,  in  all  essentials, 
would  you  be  really  at  ease  and  happy,  —  would  you 
ever  feel  quite  yourself,  —  wouldn't  there  be  a  lurking 
loneliness  and  homesickness  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
splendor?  " 

Eva  drew  a  long  breath.     "  I  think  there  would  be, 


TO  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Duke  ;  but  then  I  never  supposed  we  were  people  of  that 
sort.  Why,  mamma  would  be  quite  shocked." 

"Very  likely;  but  aren't  the  facts  on  my  side? 
Mamma's  girls  are  so  very  genteel,  that  their  hearts 
have  taken  an  awful  chill,  as  their  toes  do  sometimes  in 
their  dainty  slippers." 

Eva  laughed,  as  a  girl  would  be  likely  to,  over  this 
conclusion,  but  she  saw  some  precious  marrow  of  truth 
hidden  deep  in  the  jest. 

"  Mine  haven't,  either  toes  or  heart,"  thrusting  out  her 
foot,  and  displaying  a  handsome  kid  walking-boot.  "  I 
see  what  you  mean,  Duke ;  and  I  shall  do  my  part  to 
make  Miss  Holland  feel  real  happy  and  at  home  with  us. 
I'll  leave  mamma  and  the  girls  to  do  the  politeness ;  but 
she  shall  feel  my  heart  is  in  my  welcome." 

Duke  smiled  down  on  the  girl  now.  "  That  is  my 
brave  little  sister  !  "  he  said.  "  I  like  to  hear  you  speak 
like  that,  Eva." 

"And  then,  just  think,  Duke,  what  we  owe  Miss  Hol- 
land through  her  brother.  Where  would  you,  where 
would  we  all,  have  been  at  this  time,  if  his  heart  or  cour- 
age had  failed  him  once?  " 

"  There  is  not  a  day  of  my  life,  Eva,  in  which  I  do 
not  say  this  to  myself." 

Eva  drew  closer  to  the  young  man,  with  a  swift  sort 
of  caressing  movement,  as  though  the  old  terror  of  Duke's 
drowning  moment  came  over  her  again.  "Well,  you 
are  here,  Duke ;  and  oh !  when  Miss  Holland  comes 
won't  I  do  everything  to  make  her  feel  just  as  happy  and 
easy  as  she  would  in  her  own  home,  and  prove  to  her 


THE  HOLLANDS.  71 

what  a  heart  of  gratitude  I  have,  because  her  brother 
saved  mine  !  "  * 

"That's  my  darling,  noble  little  Eva!"  And  the 
glance  of  his  gray,  clear  eyes,  with  the  wonderful  light 
which  they  held  only  at  rare  times,  shone  full  upon  the 
girl's  face  ;  and  in  his  thought,  Duke  Walbridge  from  that 
time  depended  more  for  Jessamine  Holland's  real  happi- 
ness on  his  young  sister,  who  was  regarded  a  mere  baby  by 
the  rest  of  the  family,  than  he  did  on  his  lady  mother, 
or  her  elegant  eldest  daughter. 

The  next  day  the  letter  of  invitation  was  written,  —  a 
model  of  its  kind,  —  and  it  was  cordial  enough  to  satisfy 
even  Duke.  Each  of  the  daughters  added  her  name  to 
the  mother's,  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  begged  that  Miss  Hol- 
land would  do  her  friends  the  honor  to  come  as  early  and 
remain  as  long  as  possible ;  and  out  of  her  extreme 
graciousness,  the  lady  even  went  so  far  as  to  add  that,  if 
Miss  Holland  had  no  travelling  companion,  she  would  her- 
self provide  a  cavalier  for  the  occasion. 

"  That  means  you,  Duke,"  said  one  of  the  girls,  with 
a  laugh,  when  the  letter  was  read  in  family  conclave. 

"That  was  a  happy  thought,  mother.  I  shall  be 
ready  on  a  moment's  warning." 

After  this,  Jessamine  Holland  was  a  frequent  subject 
of  conversation  and  curiosity  at  the  Walbridges.  The 
girl  little  suspected  all  this,  in  the  lonely  cottage  off 
there  among  the  hills,  her  youth  beating  impatient  wings 
against  the  walls  which  imprisoned  it  in  on  every  side. 
The  more  they  thought  of  the  young  stranger  who  was 
coming  to  be  their  guest,  under  circumstances  so  pecu- 


72  THE  HOLLANDS. 

liar,  the  more  kindly  disposed  the  Walbridges;  old  and 
young,  felt  toward  her. 

Of  course,  in  all  this  there  was  a  patronizing  element ; 
but  the  Walbridges  resolved  that  Miss  Holland  should 
be  inducted  into  all  that  the  city  had  to  oifer  in  social 
gayeties  and  unaccustomed  splendor. 

Her  appearance  and  manners  were  matters,  too,  of 
much  curiosity,  Edith  condescending  to  hope  that  Miss 
Holland  was  a  presentable  young  person. 

"  But  don't'  you  remember  what  Duke  says  about 
her?  "  asked  one  of  the  sisters.  "  I  asked  him  if  Miss 
Holland  was  stylish,  and  he  said,  '  She's  something  a 
great  deal  better  than  that ;  she's  a  simple,  ladylike  girl. 
J.  only  wish  there  were  more  just  such  in  society.'  " 

"Oh,  well,"  replied  Edith,  "you  can't  depend  alto- 
gether on  Duke's  statements  in  this  matter.  The  girl 
would  be  likely  to  wear  in  his  eyes  some  nimbus  that 
ordinary  mortals  could  not  see,  as  she  is  the  sister  of  Ross 
Holland." 

"Well,  really,  I  don't  know  as  it  is  to  be  wondered 
at,"  spoke  up  another  voice  from  the  blooming  group. 

And  nobody  answered. 


THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JESSAMINE  HOLLAND  stood  by  the  kitchen  window  in 
the  country  house,  and  watched  the  first  flakes  of  snow 
heating  down  through  the  sharp  air.  It  was  only  a 
squall,  she  knew  by  the  looks  of  the  sky  overhead, 
where  little  cold  gulfs  of  blue  were  constantly  revealing 
themselves  betwixt  the  gray  bulks  of  cloud ;  but  she  al- 
most wished  that  a  long  winter  snow  would  set  in,  —  one 
of  the  kind  which  would  block  up  the  roads,  and  thus 
make  the  journey  to-morrow  impossible. 

It  was  a  large,  homely  room,  that  old  kitchen ;  but  the 
light'  had  a  pleasant,  cheery  way  of  looking  in  through 
the  small,  old-fashioned  windows,  and  Jessamine  Hol- 
land gazed  around  the  room  now  with  a  certain  feel- 
ing of  tender  regret,  as  the  time  drew  near  for  her  to 
leave  it.  That  rusty-brown  cottage  was  all  the  home  which 
she  had  in  the  world,  —  the  great  world  into  which  she 
was  to  be  launched  so  soon ;  a  vast,  vague  world  on  whose 
threshold  she  stood  now,  with  a  sudden  thrill,  half  of 
dread,  half  of  fear.  She  heard  the  children  outside  shout- 
ing in  the  snow,  — two  round,  stubbed,  freckled-faced  boys, 
for  whom  Jessamine  had  a  certain  affection.  There  was 
a  third  in  the  cradle ;  a  little  bald-headed,  fat,  dimpled 

7 


74  THE  HOLLANDS. 

bit  of  humanity.  By.  the  cradle,  in  a  small  rocking- 
chair,  intent  over  a  small,  blue  flannel  coat  which  she 
was  finishing  •  for  one  of  the  little  urchins  outside,  sat  a 
woman  with  a  faded,  anxious  face,  —  one  of  the  kind 
which  grows  old  early.  You  saw  at  the  first  glance  that 
her  life  had  lain  in  narrow,  toilsome  grooves,  out  of  which 
it  Avould  probably  never  be  lifted.  When  the  smile  came 
out  on  the  worn  face,  it  showed  a  warm,  honest  heart  be- 
neath it ;  and  into  its  warmest  corner,  years  ago,  Ross 
and  Jessamine  Holland  had  found  their  way  ;  and  there 
were  some  strength  and  tenacity  in  the  woman's  tempera- 
ment, —  you  felt  this  in  the  way  in  which  her  right  foot 
jogged  the  cradle,  in  the  very  tone  in  which  she  hummed 
her  lullaby  over  her  sleeping  baby,  —  whatever  got  into 
this  woman's  heart  would  be  likely  to  stay  there  always. 

At  last  the  humming  voice  stopped ;  there  was  no 
sound  in  the  wide  kitchen  save  the  faint  drawing  of  the 
thread  through  the  fabric.  The  woman  glanced  at  the 
figure  by  the  window,  —  a  quiet  girl's  figure  standing 
there,  and  yet  it  concentrated  all  the  fine  color  and  grace 
of  the  old  kitchen  in  itself. 

"Them  flakes  of  snow  won't  come  to  anything,  Miss 
Jessamine.  Wind  isn't  the  right  way.  You'll  have  a 
good  day  to-morrow." 

The  woman  had  a  rapid,  somewhat  downright  way  of 
speaking,  like  one  accustomed  to  dealing  with  the  stub- 
born facts  of  life  ;  her  sentences  short  and  to  the  point, 
clipping  off  the  redundant  conjunctions  and  prepositions. 
Her  character  had  its  angles  as  well  as  her  talk.  Jessa- 
mine had  tact  enough  to  keep  clear  of  the  former. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  75 

She  turned  now.     "  No,  Hannah,  I  was  not  thinkin^ 

'  J  O 

of  the  storm,  but  of  leaving  you  all  here." 

A  softer  look  came  into  the  worn  face.  It  smoothed 
something  there  that  was  not  just  pleasant, — a  little 
sharp,  set  line  about  the  lips. 

"You've  been  with. us  so  long,  child,  that  it's  hard  to 
let  you  go ;  only  I  know  it's  for  the  best." 

Jessamine  came  around  now,  and  took  her  seat  on  a 
low  stool  just  in  front  of  the  woman,  and  looked  at  her 
with  those  broad,  clear  eyes  of  hers,  their  brownish  tint, 
like  her  hair,  vanishing  often  in  black  shadows.  "  Han- 
nah," she  said,  "  now  the  time  has  come  to  leave  the  old 
home  here,  I  find  I  begin  to  dread  this  visit,  and  to  shrink 
from  the  strange  people  I  shall  meet  there.  All  my 
courage  is  oozed  out  of  me.  I'm  just  a  baby  instead  of 
the  woman  I  ought  to  be." 

Hannah  looked  at  the  girl,  — all  the  hard  lines,  all  the 
little  wintry  sourness  of  her  face  disappearing  in  that 
look.  "  It's  no  wonder  that  you  dread  it,  child,  going 
out  so  in  the  world  all  alone,  among  those  strange,  grand 
people ;  but,  for  all  that,  the  chance's  a  great  thing. 
I've  seen  for  a  long  time  that  this  wasn't  the  place  for 
you ;  that  it  was  hard  enough  for  you  to  be  shut  up  here 
in  the  heyday  of  your  youth  with  us  plain,  common  peo- 
ple. You  needed  something  finer  and  better,  and  it's 
been  a  long  time  coming  to  you." 

Jessamine  thought  of  the  old,  restless,  chafing  days. 
She  did  not  want  to  draw  back  into  their  prison-houses 
again ;  and  yet  the  world  was  such  a  vast,  crowded,  aw- 
ful thing  to  her.  She  drew  a  long  sigh,  and  then  looked 


76  THE  HOLLANDS. 

up  again,  her  face  in  a  gravity  which  never  comes  to 
those  who  have  not  thought  and  sorrowed. 

"One  never  can  tell  where  impressions  come  from; 
but  mine  is  strong  enough  to  amount  to  a  conviction,  that 
these  grand  people,  as  you  call  the  Walbridges,  are  cold 
and  haughty.  I've  tried  to  get  rid  of  the  feeling,  but  it 
clings  to  me.  It  crops  out,  too,  in  Ross's  letter,  —  the 
darling  fellow  !  I  can  see,  through  all  his  urgency  that 
I  should  make  this  visit,  a  certain  doubt  or  reluctance  ; 
a  kind  of  desire  to  put  me  on  my  guard  against  some- 
thing, without^  alarming  me,  and  thus  prevent  my  going. 
His  instincts  are  keen,  as  you  well  know,  and  Ross 
would  not  have  written  as  he  did  if  he  had  felt  I  was 
going  into  a  kindly  home-atmosphere,  where  any  defi- 
ciencies of  mine  would  be  excused  and  overlooked ;  he 
would  not  have  said,  '  You  will  find  the  Walbridges 
very  nice  people,  very  elegant  and  refined,  and  all  that ; 
but  I  think  none  of  them  resemble  Duke,  unless  it  is 
that  little  sister  of  his  who  gave  me  the  roses.' 

' '  Now,  Ross  would  never  have  written  in  that  way,  if 
he  had  not  wanted,  without  seeming  to  do  it,  to  prepare 
me,  not  only  for  an  entirely  new  sort  of  life,  but  for  .peo- 
ple who  would  criticise  closely  the  way  in  which  I  car- 
ried myself  there." 

"  Well,  anyhow,  you're  a  lady  !  "  said  Hannah,  look- 
ing at  the  girl  affectionately.  "You  always  was,  from 
the  minute  you  was  born." 

A  smile  flashing  through,  and  breaking  up,  for  a  mo- 
ment, all  the  gravity  in  a  face  gifted  with  a  rare  elo- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  77 

quence  of  expression,  —  "Ah,   Hannah,   if  everybody 
would  only  take  that  partial  view  of  me  !  " 

"Everybody  will,  who  has  eyes,  child;  so  don't  you 
trouble  yourself  if  these  grand  people  take  on  airs. 
They'd  better  think  what  would  have  happened  to  them 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  your  brother." 

Of  course,  Jessamine  never  would  have  said  this,  — 
never  have  "  put  it "  so,  even  in  her  thoughts  ;  but  there  ™ 
was  a  kernel  of  truth  deep  in  the  coarse  rind  of  the 
words,  which  nobody  could  gainsay. 

"  I  am  sure  Ross's  friend  feels  all  he  should  on  that 
-matter,  and  his  family  must,  or  they  would  not  have  sent 
me  this  cordial  invitation  to  visit  them." 

"I  don't  see  as  they  could  do  any  less,"  answered 
Hannah,  in  her  sharp,  decided  way,  which  it  was,  often- 
times, not  best  to  oppose. 

She  went  on,  in  a  softer  voice,  a  few  minutes  later, 
laying  down  her  work,  and  looking  with  a  kind  of  ten- 
der seriousness  into  the  face  which  sat  opposite. 

"I've  had  it  on  my  mind,  of  late,  Miss  Jessamine, 
child,  that  something's  going  to  happen  to  you.  I  don't 
know  how,  but  I'm  certain  it's  to  come  of  this  visit. 
Anyway,  you'll  never  come  back  to  the  old  house  as  you 
went  from  it.  You'll  have  been  into  the  great  world, 
and  looked  with  your  own  eyes  on  its  pride  and  splen- 
dor ;  and  that  harms  some  folks,  and  others  it  don't,  and 
you'll  be  one  of  the  last  kind,  'cause  it  isn't  your  na- 
ture to  spoil ;  it  never  was,  or  you'd  have  turned  sour 
long  ago  under  some  of  the  skies  you  and  I  remem- 
ber." 


78  THE  HOLLANDS. 

A  quick  look  of  intelligence,  a  swift  shadow  on  the 
young  face  —  those  last  words  had  touched  the  quick. 

"  Yes,  Hannah.     You  and  I  remember." 

Hannah  had  been  with  the  Hollands  through  some  of 
their  seasons  of  deepest  poverty  and  suffering. 

"But,  child,  I  want  you  to  remember  that  the  old 
house  waits  for  you  with  a  warm  welcome,  and  always  will, 
*  until  John  and  I  have  passed  over  its  threshold  for  the 
last  time.  There's  a  place  always  at  the  table,  and  a 
room  always  under  the  roof  for  you ;  and  though  both 
are  plain  and  humble,  maybe  the  thought  will  make  your 
heart  warm  sometimes  when  the  chill  comes  down  on 
it." 

Hannah  was  little  given  to  speeches  of  this  sort,  but 
her  feeling  now  carried  her  quite  out  of  herself  into  a 
kind  of  homely  eloquence. 

The  great  tears  shook  in  Jessamine's  eyes.  She  laid 
her  little,  warm  hands  in  the  hard,  brown  ones  of  the 
faithful  serving  woman. 

"  0  Hannah  !  you  are  the  best  friend,  the  dearest,  I 
have  in  all  the  world,  except  Ross." 

Hannah  said  nothing  this  time,  only  the  head  before 
her  was  suddenly  blurred.  She  lifted  one  of  her  hands, 
and  stroked  the  delicate  face  as  she  had  done  when  it 
lay  in  her  arms  under  its  soft  baby's  cap,  and  she  her- 
self was  a  blooming-cheeked  girl,  instead  of  the  faded 
woman  she  was  now. 

And  if  she  did  not  speak  any  words,  Jessamine  knew 
it  was  because  she  could  not.  The  two  understood  each 
other/  And  through  all  this,  the  white-haired  children 


THE  HOLLANDS.  79 

had  tumbled  and  shouted  together  in  the  squall  of  snow 
outside.  Afterward,  there  was  other  talk  between  the 
two  in  the  kitchen ;  Jessamine  had,  in  accepting  the  invi- 
tation of  the  Walbridge  family,  declined  the  cavalier 
which  had  been  offered  to  her. 

Hannah's  husband  had  relatives  living  but  a  few  miles 
from  the  city  where  the  Walbridges  resided,  and  as  he 
had  been  talking  for  a  year  of  making  them  a  visit,  and 
as  this  season  was  the  one  which  afforded  him  the  most 
leisure,  it  was  decided  that  he  should  accompany  Jessa- 
mine to  the  city. 

A  friend  of  the  young  girl's,  who  had  fashionable 
relations  in  New  York,  and  who  passed  part  of  every 
season  among  them,  and  whose  taste  amounted  almost  to 
genius,  had  been  duly  consulted  regarding  Jessamine's 
wardrobe.  * 

The  result  had  been  a  black  silk  for  dinner-parties, 
and  a  white  alpaca  with  blue  trimmings  for  evening  dress, 
—  the  finest  garments  which  Jessamine  Holland  had  ever 
worn  in  her  life. 

"Of  course,"  she  said,  "the  Walbridges  will  know  at 
once,  if  they  do  not  already,  that  I  cannot  afford  to  dress 
elegantly ;  and  if  they  are  ashamed  to  take  me  out  with 
them,  why,  I  can  stay  at  home :  "  a  speech  which  indi- 
cated a  remarkable  degree  of  good  sense  and  moral  cour- 
age on  the  part  of  a  young  girl  about  to  make  her  first 
advent  in  fashionable  life,  on  so  slender  a  capital. 

"A  simple,  genteel  dress  will  carry  one  through  a 
great  deal ;  and  yours  is  both,"  said  her  friend. 

And  so,  with  a  new  travelling  suit,  and  fresh  touches 


80  THE  HOLLANDS. 

to  the  rest  of  Jessamine's  wardrobe,  she  was  fain  to  be 
content. 

Even  the  small  outlay  these  involved  cost  the  girl  a 
pang.  Ross  had  sent  her  a  hundred  dollars  for  this 
visit,  and  she  feared  the  "dear  fellow  had  pinched  him- 
self to  the  last  dollar  "  to  transmit  such  a  sum  to  her. 

If  at  any  time  the  heart  of  Jessamine  Holland  half 
failed  her,  thinking  of  this  visit,  the  thought  of  Duke 
Walbridge,  her  brother's  friend,  had  come  to  steady  it. 
She  felt  certain  that  he  was  at  the  bottom  of  this  invita- 
tion, even  though  his  influence  might  not  be  apparent  there. 

His  visit,  as  you  must  know,  had  formed  a  grand  epoch 
in  the  lonely  life  of  the  girl.  That  Duke  Walbridge 
must  feel  an  interest  in  the  sister  of  the  man  who  had 
plucked  him,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  from  the  very 
jaws  of  death,  seemed  so  natural,  so  inevitable  under  the 
circumstances,  that  Jessamine  would  never  for  one  mo- 
ment draw'  any  flattering  unction  to  herself  from  any 
attention  which  he  might  offer  her.  Ross  was  the  bond 
between  them  ;  no  light  one  on  either  side. 

Jessamine  Holland  was  romantic ;  but  she  was  not 
vain.  There  was  a  fresh  simplicity  about  the  girl  which 
struck  its  roots  into  the  very  mould  of  her  nature  ;  it  gave 
a  certain  earnestness  to  all  she  said  and  did  ;  and,  as  it 
was  a  part  of  her  life,  this  quality  would  lend  a  freshness 
and  charm  of  youth  to  her  old  age. 

You-  have  seen  such  natures ;  they  are  sometimes  ab- 
rupt ;  but  Jessamine  had  delicate  instincts,  which  would 
always  be  swift  to  spare  the  feelings  of  others.  So  much 
salt  there  was  to  savor  the  character  of  Jessamine  Holland. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  81 


CHAPTER  VII. 

• 

IT  is  an  afternoon  late  in  December.  The  sky  is 
warped  all  over  with  dull,  heavy,  clouds.  The  wind 
cries  out  fiercely  sometimes,  as  the  day  settles  itself 
sullenly  into  night.  The  air  is  stung  through  with  a 
sharp  chill,  which  smites  into  your  marrow,  and  down 
into  your  heart,  and  mingles  with  any  other  chill,  if  so 
be  it  is  there. 

Just  at  this  time  a  carriage  drives  into  the  Walbridge 
grounds  and  up  to  the  door,  and  the  lights  from  the  win- 
dows gleam  brightly  upon  the  couchant  lions  on  each 
side  of  the  steps,  until  they  seem  to  look  larger  and 
grimmer  than  ever. 

Jessamine  Holland  alights  from  the  carriage,  and  her 
first  glance  rests  on  the  stern  stone  warders.  Is  it  that 
sight,  or  the  wind,  or  both,  that  makes  her  shiver  as  she 
walks  up  the  broad  front  steps  ?  The  coachman  rings 
the  bell,  and  the  door*  of  the  splendid  home  opens  softly, 
and  Jessamine  goes  in.  She  walks  through  the  wide 
hall  and  up  the  handsome  staircase  to  the  sitting-room; 
where,  as  the  door  opens,  she  sees  in  the  radiant  light 
the  Walbridge  family  assembled  to  receive  her. 

And  now"  pause  and  think  of  her  a  moment,  as  she 


82  THE  HOLLANDS. 

stands  in  their  midst,  a  lonely,  shrinking  girl,  the  only 
relative  she  has  on  earth  such  wide  spaces  of  ocean  away. 
There  she  stands,  a  quiet  figure,  in  a  gray  travelling 
dress,  something  dainty  and  graceful  about  her,  even  in  the 
midst  of  all  those  elegant  people.  There  she  stands,  and 
heart  and  soul  seem  about  to  fail  her ;  for  it  is  an  awful 
moment,  —  one  she  will  never  forget  in'  all  the  time  to 
come. 

"  Now,  Jessamine  Holland,  steady  yourself,"  says  the 
failing  courage  in  the  fluttering  heart,  girding  itself  up, 
and  then  Mrs.  Walbridge  steps. forward  to  do,  as  becomes 
her,  the  honors  of  the  house.  She  does  them  well. 

"  Miss  Holland,  I  am  most  happy  to  welcome  you  to 
our  home,"  is  said,  in  the  lady's  softest,  most  gracious 
manner  ;  but  she  is  not  thinking,  ' '  Poor,  young,  lonely, 
motherless  thing !  how  trying  all  this  must  be  for 
you !  "  She  is  quietly  but  keenly  noticing  Jessa- 
mine's air  and  figure,  and  the  fabric  of  her  dress, 
and  that  warmer  welcome  of  the  heart  it  is  not  in  the 
nature  of  Mrs.  Walbridge  to  give.* 

Then  Edith  comes  forward,  with  her  fair,  proud  face, 
the  rustle  of  her  elegant  dress  following  her  path  along 
the  rich  carpet,  and  her  smile  is  bright ;  but  Jessamine 
does  not  warm  under  it.  And  each  of  those  fair,  bloom- 
ing girls  has  gone  .through  her  part,  until  it  has  come 
Eva's  turn. 

She  steps  forward.  She  has  been  admiring  the 
way  in  which  "mamma  and  the  girls"  have  gone 
through  with  their  parts,  and  intends  that  hers  shall  not 
suffer  a  disparaging  comparison  with  the  others  ;  but  a 


THE  HOLLANDS.  83 

swift  thought  of  a  stormy  night,  and  a  vt)ice  shouting  out 
through  the  darkness  and  the  rush  of  the  waves,  "Hold 
on,  and  I'll  save  you  !  "  sweeps  upon  Eva  Walbridge. 
Her  face  trembles  as  it  lifts  itself  to  Jessamine.  Instead 
of  one  hand,  she  puts  out  both,  and  grasps  the  stranger, 
—  "  0  Miss  Holland  !  I  am  glad  to  thank  you,  at  last, 
for  what  your  brother  did  for  mine." 

The  words  strike  through  the  chill  in  Jessamine's 
heart.  The  tears  slip,  in  spite  of  herself,  into  the  eyes, 
that  even  Edith  has  decided  are  remarkably  fine,  and  for 
the  first  time  Mrs.  Walbridge  feels  a  little  secret  unea- 
siness. 

Eva's  welcome  seemed  to  shed  some  new  light  upon 
hers,  that  made  it,  by  contrast,  appear  lacking  in  cordial- 
ity. She  had  intended  to  say  all  that  was  required 
respecting  their  obligations  to  Miss  Holland's  brother 
when  a  fit  season  occurred,  which  surely  would  not  be  on 
the  young  lady's  first  arrival. 

But 'Eva  had  anticipated  her  mother,  and  really  Mrs. 
Walbridge  could  find  nothing  to  censure,  in  speech  or 
manner,  of  her  youngest  daughter.  At  that  moment  the 
maid  appeared,  to  conduct  the  new  guest  to  her  chamber, 
and  as  she  followed  the  young  girl  up  the  winding  flight 
of  stairs,  Jessamine  Holland  thought  of  Eva's  welcome, 
and  it  seemed  the  only  really  pleasant  thing  in  the  splen- 
did home  to  which  she  had  come. 

4-S  soon  as  she  left  the  sitting-room,  the  inmates  gath- 
ered into  a  corner,  and  a  brisk  conversation  ensued. 
"  Well,  now,  what  do  you  think  of  her  ?  "  asked  one  girl, 


84  THE  HOLLANDS. 

as  though  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  decide  Jessa- 
mine's status  in  the  household  without  loss  of  time. 

"  She  isn't  exactly  stylish,  as  we  call  it, -mamma?  " 
asked  another,  sufficiently  doubtful  to  need  the  maternal 
confirmation  of  her  criticism. 

Mrs.  Walbridge,  not  quite  assured  of  the  character  of 
her  welcome,  desired  to  be  generous  in  her  criticisms  on 
the  young  stranger:  "  Style,  my  dear,  is  not  the  only 
desirable  attribute  in  a  young  lady.  There  is  certainly 
nothing  in  her  manner  to  find  fault  with." 

"-She  was  a  little  embarrassed  during  the  introduc- 
tions," commented  Edith,  who  prided  herself  on  her  sang 
.froid,  under  most  circumstances. 

' '  But,  my  dear, ' '  said  again  the  mild  voice  of  the 
mother,  "you  must  remember  how  trying  it  was.  I 
wonder  she  went  through  it  so  well." 

' '  Her  dress  was  simple  enough :  but  then  it  was  in 
good  taste;  nothing  of  the  backwoods-air  about  it," 
added  another  of  the  sisters. 

"  Anyhow,  I  like  her  ever  so  much,"  broke  in  Eva,  in 
her  decided  way  ;  "and  I'm  sure  she's  handsome ;  nobody 
can  deny  that." 

"  Nobody  wished  to,  I  presume,  if  it  be  true,  my 
dear,"  suggested  the  mother.  • 

"  But  is  it  true?  — that's  the  question,"  said  another. 

"Not  exactly,"  replied  Edith.  "She  has  fine  eyes 
and  very  good  features,  and,  in  full  dress,  I  should  think 
might  look  well.  Her  eyes  are,  really,  something  un- 
common." 

"  It's  a  delicate  face,  — what  I  think  people  would  call 


THE  HOLLANDS.  85 

interesting.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  made  quite  a 
sensation  in  society ;  for  there's  something  a  little  unlike 
the  ordinary  type  about  her,  I  fancy,"  added  Gertrude. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  feminine  conclave  Duke  hurst, 
panting.  The  criticisms  would  have  to  be  a  little  more 
guarded  now. 

"  Has  Miss  Holland  arrived  ?  "  he  burst  out. 

"  Yes,  and  has  just  gone  upstairs,"  answered  several 
voices. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  that ;  I  was  just  about  starting  for 
the  cars,  when  an  old  chum  of  mine,  from  Germany, 
burst  into  the  office.  Of  course  I  was  glad  to  see  him ; 
for  we  had  footed  and  staged  over  half  the  continent  to- 
gether, and  the  sight  of  him  started  a  flock  of  old  mem- 
ories, of  climbing  up  the  Alps,  and  moonlight  boatings 
at  Venice,  and  pretty  peasant-girls  at  Italy. 

"  The  time  just  spun  off;  and  when  I  looked  at  my 
watch,  I  saw  I  was  too  late ;  the  carriage  must  have  gone 
without  me.  I  rushed  away  from  my  friend,  as  quick  as 
I  could  with  any  sort  of  decency,  and  hurried  up  here." 

"I  certainly  expected  and  desired,  my  son,  that  you 
should  meet  Miss  Holland  at  the  depot ;  but  the  coach- 
man said  he  knew  she  was  the  right  young  lady  as  soon 
as  he  laid  eyes  on  her;  so  there  was  no  difficulty,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Walbridge. 

"Well,  Pussy,  what  did  you  say  to  her?"  asked 
Duke,  to  Eva,  who  had  come  over  to  him,  with  plenty 
of  talk  in  her  face. 

"Not  much;  but  I  think  she  knew  what  I  meant 
when  I  told  her  that  I  was  glad  to  thank  her  for  all  her 


86  THE  HOLLANDS. 

brother  had  done  for  mine.     I  saw  the  tears  come  in  her 
eyes  then." 

"You  did?" 

"Yes;  and  0  Duke,  I  like  her  ever  so  much.  I 
am  sure  we  shall  get  on  nicely  together.  They  were  all 
discussing  her  when  you  came  in." 

"  Well,  what  did  they  say  about  her  ?  " 

"  Pretty  good  things.  They  all  thought  she  was  lady- 
like and  good-looking." 

Duke  said  nothing,  and,  after  a  moment,  Eva  contin- 
ued :  — 

"I haven't  forgotten  our  talk,  Duke.  I  intend  to  do 
all  /can  to  make  Miss  Holland  happy." 

"I  shall  not  forget  it,  Eva,"  —smiling  on  her  now. 
"  It  will  be  a  kind  of  test  of  the  value  you  set  on  me." 

Eva  made  some  playful  rejoinder,  and,  in  the  midst  of 
the  talk,  her  father  entered,  and  she  darted  off  to  ac- 
quaint him  with  Miss  Holland's  arrival. 

Just  as  the  dinner-bell  rang,  the  young  lady  entered 
the  room,  —  a  magnet,  again,  for  all  eyes. 

Jessamine  Holland  was  a  young  girl,  and  very  human. 
She  had  made  her  toilet  that  evening  with  a  good  deal 
of  trepidation,  smiling  a  little  to  herself  as  she  gazed 
around  the  handsome  chamber,  and  thought  of  its  im- 
mense contrast  to  the  little  room  she  had  under  the  roof 
in  Hannah  Bray's  cottage.  The  hair  was  brushed  back 
from  the  low,  wide  forehead,  in  the  only  way  she  ever 
wore  it ;  the  dark,  -heavy  folds  giving  their  own  effect  to 
the  delicate  face.  She  wore  her  black  silk,  with  the  fresh 
lace  at  the  throat.  Poor  Jessamine !  she  had  not  put  it 


THE  HOLLANDS.  87 

on  without  a  little  pang  at  the  extravagance  of  wearing 
it  at  a  simple  home-dinner,  but  she  thought  of  the  group 
of  handsomely  dressed  girls  downstairs,  and  she  remem- 
bered the  remark  of  the  friend  who  had  superintended 
her  wardrobe,  ' '  That  there  is  a  great  deal  in  first  im- 
pressions." 

Mr.  Walbridge  came  forward,  and  received  his  guest 
with  stately  courtesy.  No?  so  Duke.  His  greeting  was 
so  cordial,  his  welcome  so  full  of  frank  eagerness,  that 
Jessamine  began  to  feel  at  her  ease  at  once.  His  ques- 
tions came  so  fast,  that  she  could  only  find  space  to  reply 
in  monosyllables.  Had  her  journey  been  pleasant? 
Was  she  tired  ?  and  then  followed  explanations  and  apol- 
ogies for  not  meeting  her  at  the  depot. 

There  was  the  elegant  Edith  on  one  side ;  there  were 
all  those  pretty,  blooming  girls  about  her ;  and  yet,  I- 
half  fancy,  the  eyes  of  a  stranger  entering  the  room,  at 
this  moment,  would  have  returned  oftenest  to  the  quiet 
figure  in  the  simple  black  dress,  and  the  delicate  face 
under  the  shading  of  the.  beautiful  hair ;  though  I  sup- 
pose  that  would  depend  largely  on  the  character  and 
taste  of  the  gazer. 

Duke  took  Miss  Holland  out  to  dinner,  but  Eva 
claimed  a  seat  by  the  side  of  her. 

Of  course  Jessamine's  manner  at  the  table  underwent 
something  of  the  same  covert  inspection  that  her  broth- 
er's had  done  before,  without,  however,  affording  any 
salient  points  for  criticism. 

The  family  was  all  gracious,  although  Duke  and  Eva 
seemed  to  feel  that  the  new  guest  belonged,  especially,  to 


88  THE  HOLLANDS. 

themselves,  and  there  was  something  in  the  young  man's 
manner  which  could  thaw  any  chill  in  the  Walbridge 
atmosphere. 

Jessamine  Holland,  too,  had  latent  conversational  gifts, 
which  she  never  suspected,  but  which  the  world  would  be 
likely  to  develop ;  and  eager,  timid,  expectant,  she  stood 
now,  on  the  threshold  of  that  same  marvellous  world  of 
which  she  had  so  often  dreamed,  — a  quiet,  girlish  fig- 
ure, not  without  something  pathetic  in  its  silent  back- 
ground, in  its  youth,  and  its  loneliness. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  89 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  visit  which  launched  Jessamine  Holland  into  a 
new  world  placed  the  girl  secretly  on  her  mettle.  Per- 
haps she  was  hardly  conscious  of  it ;  but  it  was  inevitable 
that  a  visit  of  this  sort  must  prove  a  fine  touchstone  of 
whatever  social  powers  were  latent  in  her ;  a  touchstone 
which  would  be  likely,  too,  in  subtle  ways,  to  try  some- 
thing of  one's  real  moral  fibre,  and  to  enable  a  keen  and 
broad  observer  of  human  nature  to  discern  pretty  accu- 
rately what  sort  of  qualities  went  to  the  making  of  the 
whole  character.  To  any  girl  brought  up  as  Jessamine 
had  'been,  this  visit  must  prove  in  many  ways  a  severe 
ordeal. 

A  soft,  absolvent  nature,  with  natural  refinement  of 
taste  and  feeling,  would  have  been  permanently  shaped 
and  impressed  by  the  influences  which  now  surrounded 
Jessamine  Holland  ;  a  stronger,  coarser  nature  must  have 
taken  on  a  superficial  varnish,  while  retaining  beneath  all 
its  own  strong  individuality.  The  time  had  come  now, 
as,  sooner  or  later,  I  suppose  it  comes  to  all  of  us,  to 
test  what  power  was  in  this  girl,  —  wKat  sort  of  a  woman 
had  come  at  last  out  of  the  shadowed  childhood,  the  lone- 
ly, defrauded  youth  ;  and  when  these  tests  came  in  forms 


90  THE  HOLLANDS. 

she  looked  not  for,  her  own  deeds  are  her  witnesses  for 
good  or  for  evil.  • 

At  any  rate,  the  Walbridges,  who  ought  to  be  good 
judges  in  these  matters,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Jes- 
samine would  be  worth  patronizing ;  which  a  shy,  common- 
place girl  would  hardly  have  been.  Not  that  they  shut 
their  intentions  in  a  word,  which  has  something  offensive 
about  it ;  they  disguised  all  that  under  graceful  terms  of 
hospitality  and  courtesies.  They  had,  however,  an  in- 
stinct that  Miss  Holland  would  be  interesting,  and  might 
create  a  sensation  which  would  redound  more  or  less  to 
their  own  glory. 

,  So  far  and  near  circulated  the  story  of  Duke's  rescue 
from  drowning  by  Ross  Holland,  making  of  the  latter 
quite  a  grand  hero,  and,  of  course,  investing  his  sister 
with  a  certain  atmosphere  of  romance  and  interest.  Peo- 
ple always  like  to  hear  new  stories ;  and  this  one  had  a 
charm  of  peril  and  intrepidity  which  attracted  every  one. 
And  so  Jessamine  Holland  produced  quite  a  sensation  in 
the  Walbridge  circle.  The  family,  too,  were  quite  will- 
ing that  everybody  should  discern  their  sense  of  obliga- 
tion to  the  sister  of  Duke's  preserver ;  for  the  feeling  was 
one  which  everybody  must  Approve. 

So,  within  two  or  three  days  after  Jessamine's  arri- 
val, everybody  had  heard  the  story  of  her  acquaintance 
with  the  family ;  and,  meanwhile,  that  young  lady  her- 
self was  making  her  first  acquaintance  with  the  city, 
having  daily  rides,"  and  little  shopping  expeditions,  and 
visits  to  the  picture-galleries,  and  to  whatever  else  was 
famous  or  interesting  in  the  city. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  91 

She  expressed  her  delight  rather  more  energetically 
to  Eva  than  to  any  of  her  sisters  ;  but  the  young  girl's 
answer  dashed  cold  water  upon  Jessamine's  enthusi- 
asm. 

"  Oh,  we  haven't  anything  in  town  worth  showing  at 
all ;  but  you  should  go  to  New  York  or  Boston,  Miss 
Jessamine.  There  you'll  see  something  in  pictures  and 
statuary." 

Jessamine  wondered  if  she  should  ever  have  such 
good  fortune  as  that ;  and  then  she  thought  of  the  time 
when  Ross  was  to  return  from  the  Indies  with  the  for- 
tune he  had  made,  and  they  would  not  only  go  to  all  the 
great  cities,  but  visit  the  Falls,  and  the  Mountains,  and 
the  Mammoth  Cave. 

But  that  was  a  long  time  to  look  ahead,  and,  mean- 
while, she  must  make  the  most  of  what  she  had  now. 
A  very  few  thousands,  in  Jessamine's  eyes,  were  to  make 
the  grand  fortune  for  Ross  and  herself;  most  men  and  wo- 
men would  have  smiled  with  a  good-natured  contempt  over 
it ;  but  then  Jessamine  had  been  educated  in  a  very  stern 
school  of  economy,  and  she  knew  just  how  far  a  little 
money  would  go ;  how  much  comfort,  grace,  luxury  it 
would  afford,  which  is  a  greaj;  thing  for  anybody  to  learn 
wisely. 

In  two  or  three  days  the  girl  made  her  entrance  into 
society,  at  a  grand  party,  • —  a  sort  of  opening  of  the 
season.  The  whole  thing  was  so  entirely  strange  and 
novel  to  her,  that  Jessamine  quite  forgot  herself  in 
the  bustle  of  preparation  at  the  household. 

She  was  bending,  in  breathless  delight,  over  a  basket 


92  THE  HOLLANDS. 

of  flowers  which  had  been  ordered  for  the  occasion,  when 
Mrs.  Walbridge,  who  was  discussing  with  her  daughters 
some  of  the  details  of  the  evening  toilet,  turned  sudden- 
ly to  Jessamine  with,  "My  dear  Miss  Holland,  per- 
haps you  will  like  Jane  to  dress  your  hair  for  the  even- 
ing ?  She  has  a  wonderful  art  at  doing  those  things 
well.'; 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Walbridge,"  answered  the  soft, 
steady  voice,  which  they  all  had  learned  to  recognize 
now.  "  I  am  in  the  habit  of  dressing  my  own  hair,  and 
I  always  wear  it  in  one  way;  so  I  will  not  trouble 
Jane." 

Of  course  this  left  nothing  more  to  be  said ;  but  Jes- 
samine was  only  well  out  of  hearing  when  Gertrude 
spoke.  "I  wonder  what  she  will  wear  this  evening. 
In  all  our  talk  over  our  dresses,  to-day,  she  has  not  said 
one  word  about  her  own.  I  wanted  to  ask  her ;  but  I  was 
afraid  it  would  seem  a  little  like  taking  a  liberty,  though 
everybody  talks  freely  over  such  things." 

"  She  can't  have  much  of  a  variety  to  choose  from  in 
that  small  trunk  of  hers,"  added  Edith.  "Why,  I 
should  no  more  think  of  going  to  New  York  to  pass  a 
week  on  a  wardrobe  that  could  be  stowed  in  such  small 
quarters,  than  I  should  of  undertaking  a  journey  to  the 
moon." 

"  No,  I  should  think  not,  Edith,  from  the  amount  of 
trunk-room  you  manage  to  occupy,"  added  her  mother, 
who  considered  Edith's  views  regarding  dress  rather  ex- 
travagant, even  for*the  daughter  of  so  rich  a  man  as 
Mason  Walbridge. 


'THE  HOLLANDS.  93 

"Well,  I  have  a  kind  of  feeling  that,  whatever  Miss 
Holland  puts  on,  she  will  look  well  in  it,"  added  Ger- 
trude. "  Some  people  have  a  gift  in  that  way."  And 
from  this  general  remark  the  discussion  of  particulars 
was  resumed  again. 

An  hour  later,  Jessamine  Holland  came  downstairs  in 
her  dress  of  white  alpaca,  terminating  in  a  soft  frill  of 
lace  about  her  throat,  which  dropped  in  a  fine,  gauzy 
scarf  over  her  shoulder. 

Not  an  ornament  did  she  wear,  except  the  little  gold 
brooch  at  her  throat,  which  had  been  her  birthday  gift 
from  Ross.  She  had  twined  a  few  cape-jessamines  in 
her  hair  that  Eva  had  brought  her  fresh  from  the  con- 
servatory that  morning,  "for  her  namesake,"  the  child 
playfully  said. 

The  white  drooping  clusters  shone  like  stars  through 
the  dark  hair,  and  there  she  stood  among  the  richly 
dressed  group,  with  their  lustrous  silks,  their  glitter  of 
jewels,  their  glow  of  color;  *and  I  think  the  eye  of  any 
true  artist  would  have  rested  longest,  and  with  a  certain 
fine  relish,. on  the  cool,  quiet  figure  of  the  girl.  Of 
course  she  underwent  a  minute  inspection  on  all  sides, 
and  then  Mr.  Walbridge  and  Duke  came  downstairs  to 
join  the  ladies ;  for  the  carriages  were  waiting. 

"A  party  is  Duke's  absolute  abhorrence,"  said  Ger- 

.  trude,  confidentially,  to  Jessamine.     "  He's  been  more 

amiable  over  the  prospect  of  this  one  than  I  ever  knew 

him.     When  he's  particularly  cross  we  always  know  a 

party  is  impending." 

The  young  man's  eyes  took  in  the  group  standing  in 


94  THE  HOLLANDS. 

the  front  hall;  a  picture  of  youth,  grace,  bloom,  such  as 
one,  it  seemed,  might  never  tire  of  beholding.  He  had 
a  fine  discernment  of  beauty  wherever  he  found  it,  and 
his  thoughts,  stirred  by  the  sight,  went  thus  to  his  own 
soul :  "  A  '  very  dream  of  fair  women.'  How  all  that 
glow  of  color  dazzles  one,  like  the  light  in  some  of  those 
still  Eastern  sunsets  I  used  to  love  !  How  like  a  water- 
lily  she  looks  among  the  others  !  —  white,  still,  graceful, 
as  though  she  had  been  gathered  up  suddenly  from  the 
broad,  slow  current  where  her  life  had  ripened,  silent 
and  serene,  into  a  great  white  purity  and  fragrance,  and 
the  dew  is  on  her  still,  and  the  sunlight !  " 

If  Duke  could  have  looked  at  these  thoughts  of  his, 
'printed  in  a  book,  he  would  have  been  mortally  ashamed 
of  them ;  but,  I  suppose,  Duke  Walbridge  was  not  alone 
in  that  matter. 

People  are  apt  to  bS  in  a  good-humor  going  to  parties. 
These  flowed  down  the  steps,  full  of  merry  excitement ; 
so  the  carriages  rolled  over  the  drive,  and,  a  little  later, 
Jessamine  Holland  made  her  first  entrance  into  fashion- 
able life. 

Late  the  next  morning,  the  family  met  to  discuss  the 
party  in  what  Edith,  rather  ambitiously,  termed  her 
"boudoir." 

"  I  really  think  she  made  quite  a  sensation,"  said  one 
of  the  girls.  "There  is  something  peculiar  and  at- 
tractive about  her,  and  people  like  anything  which  is  not 
the  cut-and-dried  pattern  one  always  meets  at  parties." 

"Duke  spoke  through  you  then,"  laughed  Edith. 
"  But  I  think  the  interest  Miss  Holland  created  is  part- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  95 

ly  owing  to  that  matter  of  Duke's,  which  everybody  has 
heard  of  by  this  time." 

"Undoubtedly,"  said  her  mother.  "  I  had  to  repeat 
the  incident  at  least  a  dozen  times,  myself,  during  the 
evening.  Still,  I  must  admit  that  Miss  Holland  did  her- 
self remarkable  credit  for  a  young  person  who  had  seen 
so  little  of  the  world." 

"  She  is  a  kind  of  a  riddle  anyhow,"  added  Gertrude. 
"I  watched  her  curiously  last  evening,  for  I  knew  she 
had  never  been  at  a  grand  party  before  in  her  life.  Yet 
she  carried  herself  through  it  without  a  solitary  blunder 
of  any  kind ;  and  really  there  were  several  gentlemen 
who  were  interested  in  her.  She  doesn't  dance  or  play ; 
but  she  does  talk  well,  and  she  does  look  remarkably 
pretty  when  she  is  animated.  Did  you  observe  her  while 
she  was  conversing  with  those  people  at  the  supper- 
table  ?" 

"I  did,"  replied  Edith. 

'''  Well,  there  was  more  than  one  gentleman  who  was 
struck  with  her.  Really,  mamma,  now  the  best  thing 
we  could  do  for  Miss  Holland  would  be  to  get  her  a  rich 
husband  this  winter.  "We  should  feel  then  that  we  had 
done  something  for  her  in  our  turn,  and  it  would  pay  off 
part  of  the  debt.  I  do  hope  somebody  will  fall  in  love 
with  her." 

"  I  should  be  exceedingly  gratified,  my  dear,  at  any- 
thing which  would  advance  Miss  Holland's  welfare ;  but, 
Gertrude,  I  do  not  like  to  hear  you  speak  as  though 
riches  was  the  only  desirable  quality  in  a  husband." 

' '  I  did  not  mean  that,  mamma ;  .but  you  know  how 


96  THE  HOLLANDS. 

important  they  are,  especially  for  a  young  lady  in  Miss 
Holland's  circumstances." 

"  I  was  telling  over  the  story  of  Duke's  drowning  to 
some  young  girls  last  evening,"  said  the  younger  but  one 
of  the  group,  "  and  they  all  insisted  that  it  would  be  such 
a  delightful  romance  in  real  life,  for  Duke  to  marry  the 
sister  of  his  preserver ;  in  fact,  that  it  was  the  proper 
thing  for  him  to  do." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !  "  said  Mrs.  Walbridge.  "  Girls  will 
say  all  manner  of  foolish  things."  . 

"I  thought  last  night,"  said  Gertrude,  "that  she 
made  almost  everybody  else  seem  overdressed,  she 
looked  so  pure,  and  white,  and  noiseless,  like  a  kind  of 
snow-drift ;  and  yet  it  was  nothing  but  a  white  alpaca, 
after  all ;  but  it  seemed  as  though  nothing  else  would 
suit  Miss  Holland." 

"I  suspect  she  has  had  little  chance  of  trying  vari- 
ety. White  alpacas  are  inexpensive,  you  know,  and 
seem  especially  designed  for  people  who  can't  afford  to 
wear  colors.  It's  my  private  opinion,  that  Miss  Holland's 
party  wardrobe  is  confined  to  that  and  her  black  silk 
dress,"  said  Edith. 

"Well,  anyhow,  she  looks  like  a  real  lady  in  them; 
and  you  can't  say  that  of  everybody  who  wears  velvet 
and  diamonds,"  put  in  Eva. 

"  Nothing  would  afford  me  more  pleasure  than  to  make 
some  additions  to  Miss  Holland's  wardrobe ;  but  that  is 
a  dblicate  matter,"  said  Mrs.  Walbridge,  who  had  already 
discerned  that  all  patronage  of  Jessamine  Holland  must 
be  skilfully  managed. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  97 

"But,  mamma,  you  know  Christmas  is  close  at  hand, 
and  each  of  us  then  can  give  Miss  Holland  something 
nice,"  again  suggested  Eva,  whose  tongue  always  bore 
its  share  in  the  family  conclave. 

"  That  is  a  bright  idea,  my  little  daughter.  We  will 
have  an  especial  reference  to  what  will  be  of  most  service 
to  Miss  Holland  in  our  selection  of  Christmas  gifts." 

Meanwhile  the  subject  of  all  this  talk  sat  in  her  cham- 
ber, for  Mrs.  Walbridge  had  very  considerately  insisted 
that  Miss  Holland,  after  her  late  hours,  should  take  her 
breakfast  in  her  own  room. 

Jessamine  Holland  sat  there,  her  head  resting  upon 
her  hand,  thinking  over  her  last  night.  What  a  new 
world  it  was  into  which  she  had  had  a  glimpse, —  a  world 
of  gayety,  splendor,  luxury,  that  seemed  like  Prospero's 
magic  to  her.  She  thought,  too,  —  and  the  smile  grew 
about  her  lips  and  a  glow  came  into  her  cheeks,  —  of  all 
the  nattering  attentions  she  had  received.  She  was  no 
angel,  as  I  have  told  you  before,  moving  amidst  others 
with  sweet  unconsciousness,  or  lofty  indifference  to  any 
admiration  she  might  receive.  On  the  contrary,  Jessa- 
mine Holland  had  a  large  share  of  approbativeness,  and 
was  keenly  alive  to  the  opinions  of  those  around  her. 
She  had  made  her  entree  at  the  grand  party  with  a  great 
many  flutterings  of  heart ;  but  before  the  evening  was 
over  she  had  found  that  she  possessed  some  latent  forces 
which  she  had  never  suspected  in  herself.  She  had 
felt  their  awakening  as  she  stood  in  the  midst  of  that 
group  of  men  and  women,  conscious  that  they  looked  and 
listened  with  a  pleased  surprise  of  admiration.  She 


98  THE  HOLLANDS. 

lived  all  that  over  now  in  a  few  moments,  and  the  flash 
in  her  eyes  was  the  flash  of  newly  awakened  vanity. 

It  was  a  dangerous  time  for  Jessamine  Holland.  It 
always  is  for  a  woman  when  she  first  learns  that  she 
possesses  some  subtle  power  of  attraction  for  men  and 
women.  The  delicate  head  poised  itself  with  a  new 
pride ;  there  was  a  new  triumph  in  the  smile  that  curved 
the  red  lips.  The  future  was  before  her  also.  In  its 
intoxicating  atmosphere  there  was  the  homage  of  men, 
the  envying  admiration  of  women,  the  dazzling  illusions 
of  youth  and  vanity.  The  conquests  which  her  charms 
should  win,  the  triumphs  which  her  arts  should  achieve, 
spread  themselves  before  her.  If  there  were  pitfalls 
along  that  path,  how  could  she  know  it  with  the  flowers 
blooming  gayly  along  their  brink  ? 

Yet  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  flush  and  glow 
of  the  moment,  the  city  clock  struck,  the  loud  chimes, 
one  after  another,  rolling  out  their  silvery  waves  into  the 
silence. 

It  started  the  girl  -walking  up  and  down  the  room  in 
the  charmed  atmosphere  of  her  fancies,  and  a  new  gravi- 
ty came  into  her  face. 

It  brought  back  to  her  the  old,  rust-tinted  cottage,  the 
wide,  pleasant  kitchen,  where,  at  that  very  hour,'  she 
used  to  guide  the  slow  passage  of  those  two  tow-headed 
boys  down  the  alphabet.  It  was  painful  work  at  the 
best.  She  used  to  lose  her  patience  sometimes,  —  though 
their  mother  or  the  boys  themselves  never  suspected  this, 
—  remembering  how  nimbly  Ross  and  she  had  sailed 
down  the  current  of  those  letters. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  99 

Other  thoughts  slip  in  behind  this  last  memory.  She 
sees  the  old  childish  home,  and  the  father  dreams  about 
the  house,  and  the  mother's  pale  face  looks  worried  and 
scared.  She  remembers  the  nights  when  she  and  Ross 
cuddled  over  the  bit  of  fire,  and  went  supperless  to  bed 
and  tried  to  think  they  were  not  hungry;  -and  how  she 
cried  to  herself  one  night,  softly,  her  head  hidden  away 
in  the  pillow,  because  she  had  read  that  people  sometimes 
lived  a  week  without  food,  and  that  it  would  take  such  a 
long  time  for  her  and  Ross  to  starve,  and  mamma  had 
said  they  must  all  do  that  before  they  could  beg. 

The  tears  come  into  her  eyes  now,  thinking  of  those 
dreadful  times,  and  she  glances,  around  the  elegant  cham- 
ber, at  the  silver  and  china  breakfast-service  on  the  table. 
If  she  could  only  have  looked  forward  to  all  this,  and 
seen  herself  here,  how  much  it  would  have  seemed  like 
Cinderqlla's  slipper,  and  all  that  came  of  it ! 

The  pride  has  all  gone,  and  a  soft  tremulousness  has 
come  around  her  lips  instead. 

She  sits  down  now,  and  the  ' '  long,  long  thoughts ' ' 
of  her  youth  come  again,  not  as  before. 

"Jessamine  Holland,  for  shame!"  they  say  to  her. 
"  Are  these  the  things  to  delight  your  soul?  Is  this  the 
womanly  ideal  you  will  go  seeking  after  ?  Will  you  set 
no  higher  aim  before  you  than  the  homage  and  flattery 
of  men,  the  praise  and  envy  of  women  ? 

"  Take  all  the  comfort  and  pleasure  that  is  the  right 
of  your  youth  in  this  new  life  that  has  come  to  you. 
But.  beyond  that,  see  that  your  soul  possesses  itself  in 
courage  and  strength,  in  sweetness,  and  gentleness,  and 


100  THE  HOLLANDS. 

truth.  If  you  are  happier,  seek  also,  by  so  much,  to 
be  better. 

"  If  you  find  that  you  have  new  powers  to  attract  and 
influence  others,  remember  always  that  God  has  left 
these  in  trust  with  you.  You  know  you  are  vain,  Jes- 
samine Holland,  and  that  admiration  is  very  sweet  to 
you.  See  to  it,  now,  that  it  does  not  eat  into  your  sin- 
cerity and  simplicity.  Try  and  not  think  too  much  of 
the  impression  you  are  making  on  others,  and  a  little 
more  of  the  good  you  may  do  to  them,  —  of  the  happi- 
ness you  may  confer  upon  them. 

"  Many  sharp  sorrows  have  taught  you  their  wisdom, 
and  though  you  are  in  the  midst  of  the  days  of  your 
youth,  you  know  these  do  not  stand  still,  but  slip  and 
slip  as  the  waves  of  the  river  do  going  to  the  sea. 

"  Keep  faith  with  your  youth,  0  Jessamine  Hol- 
land !  " 

So  her  thoughts  spoke  to  this  girl,  and  her  soul  stood 
still  and  listened.  Afterward,  in  the  press  and  burden 
of  life,  other  voices  came  and  sang  sweetly  to  her  soul. 
Whether  she  listened  and  heeded  again,  I  leave  her  own 
life  to  tell  you. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  101 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"THEY  were  all  too  old  for  a  Christmas-tree  now, 
with  its  wax  tapers  and  sugar-flowers,"  Mrs.  Walbridge 
averred,  with  half  a  sigh  and  half  a  smile,  looking  at 
her  family  of  big  girls  and  bigger  boy.  But  after 
breakfast  the  household  went,  in  high  spirits,  into  the 
library,  which  had  been  for  the  last  two  or  three  days 
the  scene  of  many  private  conferences,  and  the  key  of 
which  Mrs.  Walbridge  had  sedulously  kept  from  all  but 
privileged  fingers.  The  whole  programme  was,  of  course, 
entirely  new  to  Jessamine  Holland,  and.  she  enjoyed  it 
with  the  keen  relish  of  novelty. 

In  one  corner,  on  a  table,  was  a  huge  pyramid  of  pack- 
ages of  all  sizes,  in  white  wrappings,  with  cards  at- 
tached. 

Duke  took  the  post  of  honor  on  one  side,  and  his 
mother  the  opposite  one,  while  the  latter  read  the  names 
on  the  cards,  and  the  former  distributed  the  packages  to 
their  respective  owners,  amidst  little  shrieks  of  curiosity 
and  delight. 

The  whole  thing  was  altogether  new  to  Jessamine 
Holland.  She  enjoyed  the  scene  with  a  keener  relish, 
though  all  its  warmth  and  color  lay  against  a  background 


I 

102  THE  HOLLANDS. 

of  other  Christmas  mornings  in  the  girl's  memory ;  some 
of  them  gloomy  and  sorrowful  enough,  but  some  of  them 
bringing  the  marvellous  wonder  and  delight  of  a  china 
doll  in  a  painted  cradle,  stuffed  into  the  toe  of  her  stock- 
ing, or  a  little  box  of  small  dishes  with  pewter  spoons, 
and  a  row  of  wooden  soldiers  or  a  spinning-top  for  Ross. 
Her  head  is  all  astir  and  tremulous  with  those  old, 
plaintive  memories,  and  though  she  laughs  with  the 
others,  she  is  not  quite  certain  but  that  she  wants  to  run 
away  and  cry. 

She  starts  suddenly,  for  somebody  calls  her  name,  and 
the  next  moment  something  tumbles  into  her  lap,  —  a 
large,  soft,  long^package,  which  she  sits  a  moment  star- 
ing at  helplessly,  in  a  way  which  amuses  everybody. 

"Let  me  help  you,  Miss  Holland,"  says  Eva,  coming 
to  the  rescue ;  for  it  is  the  fashion  to  speedily  divest 
every  gift  of  its  wrappings,  and  expose  it  for  general  in- 
spection and  admiration. 

Jessamine's  fingers  were  dreadfully  awkward  that 
morning;  but  Eva's  snapped  the  cords  gayly,  and  rus- 
tled away  the  papers,  and  lo  !  a  silk  fabric  of  a  soft, 
rich,  lustrous  brOwn,  dark  and  quiet,  and  yet  with  a 
certain  glow  and  warmth  about  it,  as  though  it  had  just 
escaped  a  flood  of  sunlight.  The  texture  was  of  the 
very  richest  and  heaviest.  Jessamine  Holland  could  not 
imagine  herself  in  anything  of  that  sort ;  yet  one  gifted 
with  fine  taste  in  such  matters  would  have  seen  it  was 
just  suited  to  her  face  and  figure. 

"Why,  is  this  really  for  me?"  half  fancying  there 
must  be  some  mistake. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  103 

"Why,  of  course  it  is,"  went  Eva's  prompt,  silvery 
little  tongue.  "  Don't  you  see,  there's  papa's  name,  too, 
on  the  card.  That's  his  Christmas  gift.  Isn't  it  beau- 
tiful? "  shaking  up  the  rich  folds  in  the  light. 

Before  Jessamine  could  draw  her  breath  freely  again, 
another  package  tumbled  into  her  lap ;  a  small  one  this 
time,  but  you  felt  instinctively  there  was  something  very 
nice  and  dainty  inside  of  it.  Eva's. fingers  were  ready 
for  service  again,  and  a  purple  velvet  case  peeped  out, 
and  then,  touching  a  spring,  a  lady's  watch  and  chate- 
laine, chaste  and  simple  as  possible,  and  as  exquisite  too, 
flashed  up  into  the  eyes  of  Jessamine  Holland.  She 
could  not  speak  a  word.  Eva  took  up  the  card  and  read 
it:  "Ross  Holland,  through  his  friend,  Duke  Wai- 
bridge." 

That  was  Duke's  way  of  making  his  Christmas  gift ; 
then  such  a  gift,  too,  and  such  a  way,  giving  the  beauti- 
ful watch  a  double  value  ! 

Jessamine  tried  to  speak ;  but  if  she  had  uttered 
a  word,  its  path  lay  right  through  a  sob,  and  in  all  the 
strong  feeling  of  the  moment  she  felt  she  must  not  lose 
herself  before  those  people.  But  thick  tears  were  in  the 
eyes  she  flashed  up  to  Duke  Walbridge,  and  he  took  in 
all  they  said  to  him  at  that  moment. 

Afterward,  there  were  other  things  fell  into  Jessa- 
mine's lap  :  a  brooch  from  Mrs.  Walbridge,  —  a  rare 
Florentine  mosaic  in  a  rich  setting  of  gold,  —  and  some 
costljr  laces  from  Edith,  and  pretty  and  tasteful  things 
from  the  girls.  Each  one  had  remembered  the  sister  of 
Ross  Holland  on  this  Christmas  morning,  and  though 


104  THE  HOLLANDS. 

each  gift  had,  no  doubt,  been  selected  with  a  certain  ref- 
erence to  her  wants,  and  would  have  an  immediate  ser- 
viceable value  to  her;  still,  the  most  delicate  sensitiveness 
could  not  be  pained  at  the  character  and  time  of  the 

gift- . 

When  it  was  all  over,  the  girl  tried  to  stammer  out 

some  thanks  to  the  givers ;  but  Duke  interrupted  her 
with  some  unusual  feeling  and  earnestness  in  his  voice. 
"Ah,  Miss  Jessamine,  it  is  not  for  you  to  talk  about 
paltry  gifts ;  it  is  for  us  to  remember  that  if  it  had  not 
been  for  you  and  yours  we  should  not  to-day  be  the 
unbroken  Christmas  household  we  are  !  " 

If  there  was  any  danger  of  the  Walbridges  forgetting, 
in  the  light  of  their  favors,  that  they  were  the  debtors, 
Duke  took  care  to  hold  the  fact  before  their  eyes  in  the 
way  most  certain  to  keep  their  remembrance  vivid,  and 
to  relieve  Jessamine  from  any  overwhelming  sense  of 
obligation,  which  was  heavy  enough  at  the  lightest.  She 
had  her  cry  though,  all  alone  to  herself,  upstairs  that 
day,  when  she  went  to  dress  for  the  Christmas  dinner. 
How  good  it  was  to  be  alone,  after  all ! 

There  lay  the  beautiful  things  on  the  bed,  worth  more 
than  all  she  possessed  in  the  world.  What  would  Ross 
say  to  see  them  ?  He  would  be  thinking,  now,  of  the 
old  home  Christmases,  under  that  tropical  sun,  with  the  „ 
moist,  heavy  fragrance  of  Eastern  groves  all  around  him. 
As  the  slow  winds  slipped  among  the  great  plantain- 
leaves,  as  the  sweet,  mournful  songs  of  the  natives  at 
their  work*  rose,  and  quivered,  and  died  in  the  sultry 
stillness,  would  he  think  longingly  of  the  cold  Christmas 


THE  HOLLANDS.  105 

mornings  at  home,  —  of  the  snows  on  the  hills  and 
the  skatings  on  the  river,  and  of  the  little  sister  who 
clung  to  him,  half  in  terror,  half  in  delight,  in  her. 
brown  cloak  and  bit  of  a  pink  hood,  out  there  on  the 
ice? 

But  she  struggled  out  of  all  these  memories  into  the 
present.  There  was  so  much  to  be  thankful  for  this 
Christmas.  She  had  never  felt  so  tenderly  toward  the 
Walbridges  collectively,'  as  she  did  at  that  moment. 
Every  day  she  said  to  herself,  in  a  half-chiding  fashion, 
"  How  kind,  how  good  they  all  are  !  " 

Yet,  for  all  that,  the  heart  of  Jessamine  Holland  held 
itself  back  from  these  people  who  lavished  their  favors 
upon  her.  Motherless,  lonely  girl  though  she  was,  she 
could  never  have  gone  to  Mrs.  Walbridge  with  any  vital 
joy  or  grief.  The  soft,  measured  tones,  the  very  smile 
forbade  that.  A  feeling  that  she  must  be  always  on  her 
guard,  that  she  was  watched  and  scrutinized,  clung  un- 
comfortably to  Jessamine,  whenever  she  was  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  lady  and  her  daughters.  It  neutralized,  to  a 
large  degree,  Jessamine's  happiness  in  the  elegant  home. 
She  was  never  just  at  her  ease  except  when  she  was  with 
Duke  and  Eva. 

The  child  had  taken  an  ardent  liking  to  Jessamine. 
She  was  always  certain  to  be  at  the  girl's  side  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  in  their  walks  and  rides. 

Jessamine,  too,  was  singularly  fond  of  the  youngest 
of  the  household.  With  Duke  and  Eva  she  was  thor- 
oughly at  home,  and  she  found  her  highest  enjoyment  in 
those  times  when  they  three  gathered  themselves  in  a 


106  THE  HOLLANDS. 

corner,  away  from  the  others,  and  had  their  evenings 
together. 

Then  Jessamine  Holland  was  mostly  herself,  —  her- 
self as  not  even  Ross  or  Hannah  Bray  in  the  old  home 
knew  her.  All  her  thoughts  were  alive  and  alert  with 
Duke  Walbridge,  and  yet  she  was  less  a  talker  than 
a  listener. 

All  his  tmvels  and  experiences  opened  to  her  the 
gates  of  a  new  world.  She  went  everywhere  with  him 
in  these  talks.  She  stood  in  the  awful  silences  of  the 
desert,  under  the  vast  shadows  of  the  pyramids  ;  she 
floated  with  him,  in  long,  slumberous,  sunny  days,  down 
the  Nile  ;  she  gazed,  rapt  and  awe-struck,  upon  those  vast 
Gothic  cathedrals,  whose  awful  mystery  of  power  and 
genius  were  revealed  only  to  the  Middle  Ages  ;  she  hung 
upon  pictures,  whose  trances  of  glory  have  enriched  the 
nations,  and  she  learned  some  of  their  grand  meanings 
of  form  and  color ;  she  toiled  up  wild,  snow-bound  fast- 
nesses of  the  Alps ;  she  dropped  down  in  the  nest  of 
green  valleys  hung  among  the .  mountains  ;  she  gathered 
grapes,  which  poured  themselves,  in  heaps  of  purple 
foam,  along  the  hills ;  she  heard  the  songs  of  the  Tuscan 
peasant-girls  ring,  in  their  silvery  sweetness,  through  the 
golden  sunset  air ;  she  swung  in  Venetian  gondolas  over 
the  black  waters,  and  heard  the  slow  dip  of  the  boatman's 
oar  break  the  delicious  silence ;  and  she  came  back,  at 
last,  from  all  these  scenes  with  her  whole  soul  stirred 
into  living  power  and  beauty  in  her  face,  starting  new 
depths  in  the  brown,  shining  eyes,  quivering  about  her 
lips  in  a  new  sweetness,  whether  of  smiles  or  pathos,  and 


THE  HOLLANDS.  107 

flushing  her  cheeks  with  a  bloom  like  that  of  clouds  be- 
fore the  sunrise. 

But  the  talk  slipped  everywhere,  like  summer  winds 
coming  and  going  at  their  own  sweet  will.  The  sunny 
deeps  of  the  girl's  nature  would  flash  out  in  mirth  and 
playfulness,  with  a  certain  quaint  originality  through 
all ;  then  a  sudden  gravity  would  steal  into  her  face,  and 
the  shadows  would  fall  into  her  talk,  as  they  never  do 
into  those-  who  have  not  thought  and  felt  strongly, 
whether  the  souls  be  old  or  young. 

It  was  strange,  too,  into  what  grave  topics  the  talk  had 
a  tendency  to  stray  sometimes.  Neither  Duke  Wai- 
bridge  nor  Jessamine  Holland  had  the  sort  of  natures 
which  is  always  content  to  dwell  in  the  surfaces  of 
things.  All  the  wide  circles  of  human  thought  and  life 
had  a  keen  interest  for  both  the  young  souls,  and  Jessa- 
mine, in  her  lonely  home  among  the  hills,  as  well  as 
Duke,  in  his  wanderings  over  half  a  planet,  had  pondered 
deeply  the  profound  mysteries  which  underlie  all  being 
here,  —  the  silent  past,  from  which  we  came ;  the  solemn 
present,  with  which  we  deal ;  the  jws&l  future,  to  which 

And,  in  one  way  and  another/Tnese  thoughts  came 
out  in  the  talk,  sometimes  on  the  man's  side,  sometimes 
on  the  woman's ;  but,  in  either  case,  they  were  sure  to  be 
met  by  sympathy  of  kindred  thought  and  doubt.  Each 
had  battled  with  the  same  perplexity ;  each  understood 
the  feeling  of  the  other.  Fragments  of  this  talk  floated 
sometimes,  through  the  hum,  into  another  part  of  the 
room,  and,  after  the  manner  of  girls,  his  sisters  rallied 


108  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Duke  mercilessly  on  the  matter,  when  Miss  Holland 
out  of  hearing. 

"Duke  has,  at  last,  found  a  young  woman  after  his 
heart,"  said  Gertrude,  merrily.  "I  caught  a  few  scraps 
of  their  talk  last  night ;  but,  dear  me !  it  was  entirely 
too  recondite  for  ordinary  mortals'  ears.  I  heard  some- 
thing about  the  old  Brahmin's  search  after  truth,  and 
the  Greek  philosophers ;  about  Ahrimanes,  and  Oromas- 
des,  and  retired  in  dismay.  No  doubt  it  was  highly 
edifying  and  sublime  for  anybody  who  has  a  fancy  to 
dwell  on  Mount  Olympus,  among  the  gods  ;  but  my  am- 
bition is  humbler.  What  a  dreadful  blue-stocking  Miss 
Holland  must  be  to  relish  that  kind  of  discourse  !  " 

A  laugh  went  around  the  circle ;  for  Gertrude  could 
say  very  bright  Jthings,  and,  when  she  was  in  a  good 
humor,  they  nevl^MRng. 

"Well,"  answered  Duke,  whom  none  of  his  own 
household  ever  yet  put  down,  "it  is  a  comfort  to  find, 
at  last,  such  a  thing  as  a  really  sensible  girl,  —  one  who 
cares  to  talk  about  something  but  dress,  flirtations,  and 
fripperies  of  that  sorj^" 

"  Oh,  well,  Duke,  youth  must  Jhave  its  day,"  an- 
swered Mrs.  Walbridge.  "  Because  you  happened  to  enjoy 
an  argument  on  the  science  of  government  before  you  were 
out  of  small  clothes,  it  is  by  no  means  fair  to  expect  that 
everybody  else  must." 

"  I  think  you  are  putting  my  precocity  rather  strongly, 
mother,"  answered  the  young  man,  who  perfectly  compre- 
hended her  secret  pride  in  the  matter.  "Rattle-boxes 
and  rocking-horses  certainly  divided  my  affections  with 


THE  HOLLANDS.  109 

all  profounder  matters  at  the  period  of  which  you 
speak." 

"As  for  Miss  Holland's  being  a  blue-stocking,  it  isn't 
one  word  of  it  true,"  subjoined  Eva.  "If  .you  could 
only  hear  her  when  she's  funny,  you'd  never  say  that 
of  her  again." 

Eva's  admiration  of  Miss  Holland  was  an  accepted  fact 
in  the  family.  Indeed,  it  was  somehow  tacitly  understood 
that  Miss  Holland  was,  in  some  especial  way,  the  prop- 
erty of  Duke  and  his  youngest  sister. 

It  may  seem  singular  that  Mrs.  Walbridge,  with  all 
her  worldly  wisdom,  had  no  fears  of  the  results  to  which 
such  an  intimacy  might  lead.  In  any  other  case  she 
would  have  been  watchful  enough ;  but  Jessamine  was 
Ross  Holland's  sister,  and  in  this  light  she  fancied  Duke 
regarded  her.  She  was,  in  some  sense,  especially  his 
guest.  Whatever  attentions  he  paid  her,  Mrs.  Walbridge 
regarded  them  as  offered  for  the  brother's  sake.  Duke's 
very  gratitude  would  cause  him  to  invest  the  girl  with 
graces  of  person  and  character,  and  perhaps  the  unac- 
knowledged consciousness  that  something  was  wanting  in 
her  own  feeling  toward  Jessamine  Holland  made  Mrs. 
Walbridge  peculiarly  indulgent  toward  the  intimacy  of 
her  son  and  her  guest.  She  did  not  really  admit  it'to 
herself ;  but  she  did  not  the  less  feel  that  her  compla- 
cency here  made  ample  atonement  for  whatever  was 
lacking  in  herself. 

Then,  too,  no  ordinary  conventional  rules  suited  the 
present  case.  Duke's  acquaintance  with  the  Hollands 
had  been  made  under  peculiar  circumstances,  and  must 


110  THE  HOLLANDS. 

always  be  of  an  exceptional  character.  The  gratitude 
which  he  felt  toward  Ross  was,  no  doubt,  the  secret  of 
his  liking  for  the  sister,  and  it  would  not  become  the 
mother  to  -prevent  'their  being  so  constantly  thrown  to- 
gether. Everybody  in  the  house  seemed  to*  regard  the 
matter  from  Mrs.  Walbridge's  point  of  view ;  so  Duke, 
and  Jessamine,  and  Eva  went  riding,  sleighing,  walking 
together.  There  was  nothing  worth  seeing  in  the  city 
to  which  the  young  man  did  not  introduce  their  guest; 
and  when  they  were  not  out  themselves,  or  there  was  no 
company  at  home,  the  trio  often  had  the  evening  almost 
entirely  to  themselves.  Then  Mrs.  Walbridge's  mind 
was  unusually  preoccupied  at  this  time.  Edith  had 
several  lovers  to  be  regarded,  and  the  mother  began 
to  suspect  the  choice  to  which  her  eldest  daughter  in- 
clined. 

It  was  evident,  too,  that  Miss  Holland  had  taken  in 
society,  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  hoped,  before  the  winter 
was  over,  that  the  young  lady  might  make  some  eligible 
match,  and  intended  to  use  all  her  influence  for  the  fur- 
therance of  this  scheme,  the  lady  having  no  small  tact 
in  such  matters.  That  would  pay  off,  as  well  as  one 
could,  her  son's  debt,  and  with  an  elegant  wedding  under 
her  roof  to  conclude  the  matter  handsomely,  and  a  rich 
trousseau,  Mrs-.  Walbridge  would  feel  that  she  had  done 
all  that  eould  be  demanded  of  her. 

As  for  Duke,  he  had  been  just  like  nobody  else  from 
his  birth.  His  mother  did  not  think  him  particularly 
susceptible  to  youthful  charms.  Indeed,  like  the  girls, 
she  very  much  doubted  whether  he  would  not  be  an  old 


THE  HOLLANDS.  Ill 

bachelor.  So  the  mother  reasoned;  not  unlike  most 
mothers  perhaps. 

Jessamine  Holland,  upstairs,  dressed  herself,  as  I 
said,  with  some  new  warmth  of  feeling  toward  all  the 
Walbridges  that  Christmas  day.  There  lay  the  beauti- 
ful gifts  on  the  bed,  and  every  few  moments  she  turned 
to  look  at  them  with  smiles  coming  into  her  eyes,  and 
tears,  too,  now  and  then.  How  much  thought  and  kind- 
ness each  gift  proved,  and  how  much  delicate  taste  and 
tact  each  showed  too !  Everything  was  just  what  she 
wanted,  and  just  what  she  could  not  buy.  She  was  an 
ungrateful  thing,  to  stand  aloof  as  she  did,  in  her  heart 
of  hearts,  from  those  people.  It  was  a  foolish,  misera- 
ble pride,  not  a  high,  generous  spirit,  which  held  her 
back  from  them  all. 

"And,  Jessamine,"  she  said  to  herself,  pausing  a 
moment  before  she  went  downstairs,  "you  are  not  to 
think  of  yourself,  you  know,  or  of  the  impression  you 
are  making  on  others.  That  last  will  be  very  hard,  be- 
cause you  are  so  fond  of  admiration ;  but  while  you  are 
determined  to  have  a  good  time  yourself,  you  are  to 
seek,  also,  to  make  one  for  others  when  you  are  among 
them." 

After  dinner  that  evening,  the  family  did  not  disin- 
tegrate into  groups  as  early  as  usual.  The  day  and  its 
associations  had  some  attractions  which  held  them  to- 
gether. 

The  winds  sprang  up  fiercely  as  the  night  shut  down, 
and,  if  one  listened,  their  cry  outside  was  an  awful  thing 
to  hear.  One  and  another  spoke  of  it  with  a  little  shiver, 


112  THE  HOLLANDS. 

11  How  the  wind  does  blow  !  Just  hear  that !  It's  like 
the  bellowing  of  a  gale  at  sea  ! ' '  and  comments  of  that 
sort. 

Inside  there  was  nothing  but  glow,  and  warmth,  and 
luxurious  ease.  Jessamine  wondered  if  there  were  any 
homeless  creatures  abroad  in  the  storm,  or  any  cowering 
in  miserable  homes,  cold  and  hungry,  on  the  Christmas 
night,  to  whose  souls  it  had  brought  no  "glad  tidings." 

"  Did  anybody  there  ever  think  of  the  poor,  or  know 
there  were  such  in  God's  world?"  Jessamine  won- 
dered. Mrs.  Walbridge  did,  of  course,  because  she  was 
the  president  of  a  benevolent  society. 

What  a  good  thing  money  was  !  What  a  difference  it 
made  in  human  lots  !  —  looking  on  the  scene  before  her, 
which  was  brought  into  stronger  relief  by  the  cold  and 
darkness  outside.  They  were  all  in  their  best  humor  to- 
night. Mr.  Walbridge  called  for  some  music,  which  was 
rather  unusual  for  him,  and  the  girls  played  some  of  his 
favorite  airs,  and  Duke  went  and  sat  down  at  his  mother's 
feet,  and  laid  his  head  in  her  lap,  as  he  used  to  do  when 
he  was  a  little  boy,  as  he  on  very  rare  occasions  did  now. 
The  long,  loose  hair  hung  all  about  her  lap'.  She  took 
some  of  it  up,  and  played  with  it,  and  stroked  it  fondly. 

"  0  my  big  boy,"  she  said,  "I  used  to  play  with  it 
just  so  years  ago,  when  you  were  hardly  higher  than  my 
knee.  I  wish  you  were  just  that  little  boy  now." 

' '  Why  do  you  wish  that,  mother  ?  Have  I  disap- 
pointed you  so  much,. growing  older?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  Not  that,  Duke.  Still,  you  seemed  closer 
to  me  then.  I  could  take  you  up  in  my  lap  ancl  sing  to 


THE  HOLLANDS.  113 

you,  and  be  pretty  certain  you  would  not  do  anything  I 
should  disapprove,  though  you  were  a  stubborn  little' 
rogue ;  you  always  liked  to  have  your  own  way,  Duke." 

He  lifted  his  brows  archly;  under  them  all  the  time 
the  eyes  had  been  smiling  at  the  mother  while  she 
talked,  with  that  rare  tenderness  in  them  which  they 
only  saw  who  knew  Duke  Walbridge  intimately.  . 

"  Yes,  I  know,"—  catching  the  look,  —  "  you  have  not 
outgrown  that  liking  still.  It's  an  odd  way,  Duke,  but 
it  has  never  yet  been  a  bad  one." 

"  Thank  you,  mother  dear,  for  so  much  grace.  I 
mean  it  shall  never  be  that  last ;  that,  at  least,  I  shall 
always  keep  faith  with  myself." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  will,  my  boy.  I  cannot 
imagine  you  ever  doing  anything  which  would  make  me 
blush  because  it  was  unworthy  of  you.  And  yet  I  can 
fancy  your  doing  some  things  which  might  pain  and  dis- 
tress me  deeply." 

•"  What  are  some  of  those  things?  " 

"Do  not  ask  me,  Duke.  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell 
what  led  me  to  speak  of  them  to-night." 

He  looked  grave  a  moment,  pondering  something  in 
his  thought,  and  his  mother  said :  — 
.    "  You   have    the  old  wise  look  which   I   remember 
when  you  had  only  three  or  four  Christmases  on  your 
-head." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  in  an  unusually  tender  mood, 
and  there  were  springs  in  the  past  that  flooded  her 
memory  to-night. 

"  Wh£t  a  homely  little  cub  I  must  have  been  among 
10 


114  THE  HOLLANDS. 

all  these  handsome  sisters  of  mine  ! ' '  said  Duke,  in  his 
bantering  way,  —  "A  black  sheep  in  the  lot." 

It  was  true  that  Duke's  boyhood  had  no  beauty  to 
boast  of.  Even  his  partial  mother  must  admit  that.  But 
she  had  always  consoled  herself  with  thinking  that  the 
boy  made  up,  in  other  directions,  for  anything  that  was 
lacking  in  one. 

Jessamine  Holland,  among  the  girls  who  were  having 
a  merry  time  on  another  side  of  the  room,  saw  the  tab- 
leau of  the  mother  and  son.  The  sight  was  almost  more 
than  she  could  bear.  If  Ross  only  had  a  mother  that 
Christmas  night  into  whose  lap  he  could  lay  his  head, 
and  who  would  stroke  his  hair  with  her  soft  fingers ; 
if  he  was  only  where  she  could  do  it  a  little  while,  — 
her  eyes  clouding  with  tears.  It  seemed  so  very  hard 
that  they  two,  who  so  loved  each  other,  must  waste  their 
youth  apart. 

Then  she  remembered  the  purposes  she  had  formed  up- 
stairs, and,  looking  down,  she  caught  the  gleam  of  the 
watch  she  had  fastened  in  her  belt  when  she  came  down 
to  dinner.  That  started  a  new  train  of  thought.  The 
clouds  cleared  in  her  eyes,  and  the  smiles  came  about 
her  lips,  and  after  a  while  she  joined  in  the  general  mer- 
riment, —  light,  breezy  talk,  none  of  it  worth  writing 
down ;  and  yet  it  sounded  very  pleasant  with  its  swift 
gushes  of  laughter,  and  Duke  and  his  mother,  sitting 
apart,  listened  to  the  bright,  young  voices,  and  enjoyed 
them. 

Jessamine  bore  her  part  in  the  general  fun,  and  her 
playfulness  seemed  infectious,  for  even  Edith,  with  some- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  115 

• 

thing  of  the  school-days  she  had  left  behind  her,  joined 
in  the  merriment. 

Late  in  the  evening,  Duke  came  over  to  Jessamine's 
side.  "  I  hope  you've  enjoyed  all  this  nonsense  as  well 
as  you  seemed  to,"  he  said. 

"Just  as  well.  I  entered  into  it  from  a  by-path  of 
very  pleasant  thoughts." 

"  I  saw  you  smiling  to  yourself  as  you  sat  over  there 
on  the  lounge,  and  I  said  to  myself,  '  Ah,  Miss  Jessa- 
mine, you  are  having  some  very  happy  thoughts  just 
now.  I  wonder  what  they  are  ?  ' 

"I  will  tell  you,  Mr.  Walbridge.  I  was  thinking  of 
all  I  should  have  to  write  to  Ross  about  my  Christmas 
gifts,  and  what  a  nice,  long  letter  my  next  one  would  be. 
I  am  frequently  writing  Ross  letters  in  my  thoughts, 
and  I  sometimes  think  they  are  a  great  deal  better  than 
those  I  send  him." 

"Dear  fellow!  I  have  been  wishing,  more  than 
once,  that  he  was  here  among  us  to-day,"  said  Duke, 
earnestly. 

She  smiled  up  at  him  at  that, —  a  sweet,  grateful  smile 
coming  out  all  over  her  face. 

"  I  have  been  wondering,  all  day,  what  he  was  doing, 
and  certain  that  he  would  remember  the  old  Christmases 
when  he  and  I  were  boy  and  girl  at  home." 

"I  should  like  to  hear  something  about  those  too," 
said  Duke. 

"There  doesn't  seem  very  much  to  tell.  But  what 
was  wanting  in  the  reality,  Ross  and  I  used  to  make  up 
with  imagining  the  time  when  we  should  be  grown  up, 


116  THE  HOLLANDS. 

and  have  plenty  of  money,  and  could  make  beautiful 
Christmas  gifts  to  each  other. 

"  I  remember  that  Ross  used  to  fancy  me  tricked  out 
in  gold  and  jewels,  until  I  must  have  resembled  nothing 
quite  so  closely  as  the  wife  of  some  chief  of  Otaheite, 
while  my  ambition  was  to  bestow  horses  and  hounds,  and 
a  little  sail-boat  on  him, — the  things  in  which  I  well  knew 
his  soul  took  chiefest  delight." 

Duke  listened,  but  hardly  spoke.  All  this  was  open- 
ing a  new  world  to  him,  and  the  vision  of  those  two 
lonely  children  beguiling  their  Christmas  hours  with 
dreams  like  these  moved  him  more  than  Jessamine  would 
be  apt  to  suspect. 

But  something  in  his  look  or  manner  drew  out  another 
of  these  memories,  its  shy  face  beaming  down  to  Duke  a 
moment  from  out  of  the  mists  of  Jessamine  Holland's 
childhood. 

"  There  was  nothing,  though,  on  which  Ross  had  quite 
so  strongly  set  his  heart  as  the  gold  watch  which  I  was 
to  have  as  soon  as  the  fortune  came  in.  There  was  an 
old  one  in  the  family,  a  kind  of  heirloom,  which  belonged 
to  my  great-grandfather,  and  Ross  and  I  were  allowed 
to  hold  it  in  our  hands  sometimes,  as  an  especial  grace, 
when  we  were  just  outside  our  babyhood.  That  old 
watch  had  a  wonderful  fascination  for  us  both,  with  its 
low  ticking,  that  went  tireless  all  day  like  the  katydids 
through  the  night,  and  its  slow  hands,  which  we  had  to 
hold  our  breaths  and  watch  before  we  could  be  certain 
they  were  moving  at  all. 

"  The  old  heirloom  went  the  way  that  all  things  of 


THE  HOLLANDS.  117 

that  sort  did  incur  family ;  ^but  I  think  neither  Ross 
nor  I  ever  got  over  our  childish  associations,  and  '  Jessa- 
mine's watch  '  came  to  be  the  general  sign  for  all  the  air- 
castles  in  the  family,  and  we  children  were  not  the  only 
ones  who  built  them. 

"  Ross  had  his  joke  over  the  thing  to  the  last,  for  I 
remember  he  said  to  me  the  day  before  we  parted, 
'  Well,  Jessamine,  I  shall  have  to  go  to  the  East  Indies 
for  your  watch,  after  all ;  but,  though  the  way  is .  a  long 
one,  it's,  shorter,  in  the  end,  than  it  would  be  to  wait  for 
it  in  New  York.'" 

"  And  I  know  you  said  something  in  reply,  Miss  Jes- 
samine. I  think  I  see  you  doing  it  now." 

The  bright,  cool  eyes  looked  up  at  him  in  their  pleased, 
surprised  way.  "  How  do  you  know  I  said  anything 
then?"  she  asked,  with  just  a  touch  of  that  pretty 
peremptoriness  which  was  her  habit  at  the  time  when 
Jessamine  had  been  the  youngest  pet  of  the  family. 

'"  Because  it  is  like  you  to  do  it.  I  can  almost  imag- 
ine the  very  words  of  your  reply." 

"What  were  they?" 

"I  think  they  must  have  been  something  after  this 
sort :  '  0  Ross !  I  had  rather  have  you  here  than  all 
the  watches  in  the  world  ! ' : 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  wide  amazement  in  her 
brown  eyes.  "Why,  those  were  the  very  words  I  did 
say!" 

He  was  a  little  surprised  in  his  turn.  "  I  did  not  ex- 
pect that  my  bow  would  just  hit  the  mark,  —  only  come 
somewhere  near  it,"  he  said. 


118  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  But  it  is  very  funny  !  I  don't  understand  it !  I 
am  half  afraid  of  you  !  "  speaking  under  her  breath,  and 
looking  at  him  as  though  she  almost  fancied  he  must  be 
some  necromancer,  against  whose  spells  she  must  guard 
herself. 

Her  look  amused  him  vastly.  "Don't  fancy  I  am  a 
professor  of  the  black  art,  Miss  Jessamine.  I  come  by 
all  my  presciences  by  perfectly  legitimate  means.  So  it 
seems  I  have  anticipated  Ross  in  this  matter  of  the  watch. 
Do  you  think  he  will  easily  forgive  me?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !     I  am  sure  he  will." 

' '  I  had  a  right  to  do  that,  also,  because  you  know 
what  I  promised  him  about  taking  his  place  in  our  last 
meeting?" 

"I  am  sure  you  have  fulfilled  your  pledge.  How 
good  you  have  all  been  to  me  !  I  never  felt  this  quite 
so  much  as  I  do  to-night." 

Duke  looked  at  the  gift  a  moment,  with  something  in 
his  eyes  which  she  did  not  understand.  Then  he  spoke, 
in  a  grave,  solemn  tone,  utterly  in  contrast  with  the  one 
which  he  had  used  a  moment  before  :  — 

"Whenever  you  say  anything  of  that  sort,  I  always 
seem  to  hear  those  words  of  Ross'  stealing  across  your 
speech  :  c  Yes  ;  I  thought  of  her,  little  Jessamine,  and 
then  I  thought  perhaps  you,  too,  had  a  sister  at  home, 
and  plunged  in.' ' 

She  had  no  more  to  say  after  that,  only  he  saw  a  look 
of  pain  come  over  her  countenance,  and  her  lip  quiver  a 
moment.  Just  then  Eva  bounded  up. 

"What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you  two? 


THE  HOLLANDS.  119 

You  look  as  sober  as  though  it  was  not  Christmas  night, 
and  it  wasn't  everybody's  duty  to  be  happy  !  " 

"  People  may  be  happy  and  look  sober  sometimes. 
Only  foolish  little  girls  would  fancy  that  one  must  be 
always  on  a  high  tide  of  joking  and  laughter  to  be  com- 
fortable." 

"  Oh,  dear !  I  suppose  that  'foolish  little  girl'  was 
intended  to  quite  extinguish  me,  Duke  Walbridge ;  but  I 
am  not  so  easily  put  down  as  you  may  imagine." 

"Experience  has  taught  me  that  fact  long  ago,  Eva," 
answered  the  young  man,  with  his  longest  face  drawn 
on. 

"Now  I  shan't  forgive  you,  Duke,  until  you  tell  me 
what  you  really  were  thinking  of  when  I  came  up;  " 
dropping  herself  down  a  moment  on  the  arm  of  his 
chair.  Duke  smiled  a  moment,  and  glanced  over  to 
Jessamine.  "There,  now,  Miss  Jessamine!  it  was 
something  about  you,  I  am  certain!" — following  ihe 
look. 

"  So  it  was,"  answered  her  brother.  "  I  happened  to 
be  comparing  the  real  Miss  Jessamine  with  the  one  I  had 
in  my  mind  when  I  went  up  in  the  country  last  summer, 
to  find  her." 

"Oh!  what  was  that  last  Miss  Jessamine  like?  I 
should  like  to  know,  and  so  would  she,  I  am  certain." 

"Yes,  I  should,"  replied  Jessamine,  curious  and 
amused. 

"Well,  then,  she  was  a  little  girl,  hardly  so  tall  or 
slender  as  you,  Eva,  with  the  roundest  -cheeks,  and  a  big 
pink  rose  in  each  of  these ;  and  a  mouth  that  was  always 


120  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ready  to  laugh,  and  a  dimple  on  one  side ;  and  bright 
blue  eyes ;  and  a  little,  decided-looking  nose,  with  a 
plentiful  sprinkling  of  freckles  all  over  it ;  and  a  mass 
of  bright,  yellowish  hair  with  a  wave  all  through  it,  and 
a  pleasant,  open  forehead  beneath." 

"Why,  that  is  not  one  particle  like  our  Miss  Jessa- 
mine," said  Eva.  "You've  just  drawn  a  ruddy,  rather 
nice-looking  little  school-girl." 

"  And  that's  precisely  what  I  thought  she  was,"  added 
Duke,  while  Jessamine  laughed  in  quiet  enjoyment  over 
this  portrait  of  herself. 

"  But  what  did  you  think  when  you  came  to  see  the 
real  Miss  Jessamine?  "  asked  Eva. 

"  No  matter  what  I  thought,  only  this  much:  c  "Well, 
Duke  Walbridge,  you've  been  making  a  great  fool  of 
yourself  all  the  way  up  here !  ' 

"  Mother !  girls !  it's  almost  midnight,"  said  Mr. 
Walbridge,  rousing  himself  from  his  nap,  and  looking  at 
his  watch. 

"  What  a  strange  Christmas  it  has  been,  and  what  a 
happy  one !  "  said  Jessamine  Holland,  a  little  later,  in 
her  chamber,  going  over  the  events  of  the  day. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  121 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  Young  Men's  Lyceum  laid  itself  out  for  an  unus- 
ually brilliant  course  of  lectures  that  winter,  "  the  high- 
est genius  and  ability  of  the  country,"  the  advertisement 
declared,  ' '  triumphantly  sustaining  itself  by  a  brilliant 
list  of  names."  The  Walbridges  did  not  greatly  affect 
lectures.  That  could  hardly  be  expected  of  people  who 
were  familiar  with  whatever  was  choicest  in  New  York 
and  Boston  literary  and  operatic  entertainments,  and  were 
disposed  to  class  any  talent  imported  to  thefr  own  town 
with  all  articles  of  American  manufacture,  "of  an  infe- 
rior quality." 

Mason  Walbridge,  however,  being  a  public  man,  felt 
it  incumbent  on  his  position  to  patronize  all  worthy  insti- 
tutions and  organizations  in  the  town,  and  he  had  been 
relied  on  from  the  beginning  as  one  of  the  stanch  sup- 
porters of  the  lyceum,  which  had  now  attained  a  vigorous 
life. 

It  seemed  desirable  that  some  of  the  family  should 
manifest  their  interest  in  the  lectures  by  an  occasional 
attendance,  although  any  suggestion  of  this  kind  was  apt 
to  be  met  by  plenty  of  unanswerable  excuses. 

Jessamine,  to  whom  a  really  brilliant  lecture  was 
11 


122  THE  HOLLANDS. 

something  entirely  new,  was  as  eager  for  one  as  for  "a 
grand  party."  In  Duke's  opinion  there  was  no  compar- 
ison between  the  two,  and  Eva  took  a  fancy  to  go  with 
her  brother  and  her  friend.  She  liked  the  excitement, 
and  to  watch  the  crowd  of  gayly  dressed  people,  just  as 
she  liked  to  go  to  church  on  Sundays,  "  no  matter  who 
preached."  All  that  Jessamine  enjoyed,  too,  with  the 
keen  relish  of  novelty,  but  she  forgot  everything  else 
when  the  lecture  commenced.  The  theme  was,  "  The 
Flight  of  the  Huguenots  on  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict 
of  Nantes ;  "  and  the  speaker  brought  to  this  subject  all 
his  profound  historical  research,  the  splendor  of  his 
genius,  and  the  powerful  magnetism  of  his  sympa- 
thies. 

The  light,  humming  audience  were  fascinated  by  the 
power  of  the  man's  eloquence.  The  blackness  of  that 
night  of  persecution  of  men  and  women,  and  little  chil- 
dren hunted  to  the  death,  driven  to  the  galleys,  worried 
and  tortured  for  conscience'  sake,  swept  its  awful  trag- 
edy along  the  foreground  for  one  moment,  and  all  that  is 
beautiful  in  faith,  resignation,  and  self-sacrifice,  under 
cruellest  suffering,  flashed  out  the  next,  —  the  pictures  re- 
minding one  of  John  Knox's  stories  of  Scottish  Life  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  shining  and  quivering  with  laugh- 
ter and  with  tears.  It  was  a  kind  of  eloquence  to  which 
"Jessamine  Holland  had  never  before'listened  in  her  life, 
and  it  wrought  like  magic  in  the  girl.  At  times  the  rapt 
audience  would  draw  its  breath,  and  cheer  the  speaker, 
and  Jessamine,  who  had  drawn  off  her  gloves  uncon- 
sciously while  she  listened,  brought  her  soft,  pink  palms 


THE  HOLLANDS.  123 

together,  and  clapped  as  eagerly,  if  not  as  audibly,  as  any 
of  the  others.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  her,  if  any- 
body was  taking  notice  at  the  time,  —  a  kind  of  childlike 
grace  and  downrightness  in  the  movement  that  was 
amusing  enough. 

"None  of  my  sisters  would  do  that,"  thought  Eva, 
"but  I  like  to  see  Miss  Holland,  anyhow;  "  and  then 
she  looked  at  Duke,  who  was  evidenly  enjoying  their 
companion's  enthusiasm. 

Somebody  else,  too,  was  quietly  observing  the  girl,  —  a 
gentleman  who  sat  on  the  other  side  of  the  aisle.  He 
was  past  middle  life,  with  a  grizzled  beard  and  hair 
about  a  fine,  thoughtful  face ;  if  its  youth  was  gone, 
there  was  something  left  which  atoned  for  the  loss ;  the 
eyes,  sharp  and  penetrating,  under  the  bushy  brows. 
They  watched  Jessamine  keenly  now,  the  owner  thinking 
to  himself,  in  a  kind  of  loose,  disjointed  fashion  :  "  Wom- 
en are  so  polished  and  artificial  nowadays,  no  getting 
to  any  sound  core  of  what  is  in  them.  I  like  that  girl 
over  there  ;  fresh,  simple,  natural  as  a  brier-rose  growing 
near  a  mountain  stream.  Quite  a  fanciful  simile  for 
an  old  man  like  you.  John  Wilbur ;  but  the  heart  in  you 
hasn't  grown  cold  yet,  only  steadier,  steadier." 

Afterward,  the  gentleman  turned  many  times  to  look 
at  the  face  of  Jessamine  Holland  that  evening.  Hers 
followed  the  speaker ;  all  its  power  brought  6ut  that  night 
the  light  in  the  clear,  wide,  brownish  eyes,  with  deeps  of 
blackness  in  them ;  the  sensitive  mouth,  with  the  flush 
and  the  quiver  all  over  it ;  a  glow  on  the  cheeks  that  was 
not  exactly  color,  but  something  better  than  that,  a  sud- 


124  THE  HOLLANDS. 

den  smile  breaking  and  steadying  itself  on  the  unsteady 
lips,  as  sunlight  on  a  heap  of  fiery  peach-blossoms,  over 
which  the  wind  has  gone  a  moment  before ;  a  smile,  with 
the  bright  sweetness  of  a  baby's  ;  and  then,  the  upturned 
face  on  the  speaker's,  the  smile  would  be  dashed  out,  a 
grieved  tenderness  would  settle  upon  it,  and  you  would 
need  no  looking  to  know  that  the  eyes  above  them  were 
thick  with  tears. 

There  are  such  faces  as  Jessamine  Holland's  in  the 
world,  but  they  are  rare.  Two  such  seem  to  shine  before 
me  while  I  write.  I  cannot  think  that  the  soul  behind 
such  a  face  could  ever  be  anything  but  a  fine,  beautiful, 
womanly  soul ;  not  that  only,  a  nature  whose  birthright 
of  all  gracious  gifts  had  been  widened  and  deepened  by 
culture.  Yes,  I  repeat  it,  there  are  such  faces  as 
this  of  Jessamine  Holland's  in  the  world,  but  they  are 
rare. 

After  the  lecture,  this  strange  gentleman  inquired  of  a 
lady  of  his  party  who  that  girl  was  with  young  Walbridge 
and  his  sister  ? 

1 '  A  Miss  Holland,  who  is  stopping  with  them.  It 
appears  that  her  brother  saved  young  Walbridge  from 
drowning,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life.  It  was  very  heroic, 
and  the  Hollands  have  invited  the  young  lady  to  pass 
the  winter  with  them.  Quite  an  interesting  face,  isn't 
it?" 

"Quite."  The  gentleman  was  disposed  to  be  mono- 
syllabic on  this  occasion,  but  he  remembered  that  he 
had  an  invitation  on  the  following  evening  to  a  large 
party,  where,  no  doubt,  the  Walbridges  would  be  present. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  125 

The  gentleman  had  resolved  to  decline  the  invitation, 
for,  like  most  men  of  his  age,  he  considered  parties  a  bore ; 
but  he  now  resolved  to  go.  There  would  be  a  chance  of 
his  meeting  this  Miss  Holland,  and  he  wanted  to  know 
more  of  her. 

The  next  evening  Jessamine  Holland  was  presented  to 
Mr.  John  Wilbur.  They  got  on  wonderfully  well  from 
the  start.  Jessamine  always  liked  sensible  men,  and  here 
was  one,  certainly :  a  man  of  good  deal  of  culture  too, 
and  extensive  travel,  and  who  had  something  to  say ;  a 
polished  gentleman,  with  a  little  touch  of  courtliness  in 
his  manners,  which  savored  slightly  of  the  old  school, 
although  Mr.  Wilbur  was  not  an  old  man  yet,  looking 
at  the  grizzly  hair,  and  the  fine,  strong  face  under- 
it. 

"  How  much  better  he  was,"  Jessamine  thought,  "  than 
those  dainty,  perfumed  gentlemen  who  were  full  of  their 
silly,  vapid  talk  and  unmeaning  flatteries,  which  had  a 
sickly  odor  to  her  taste,  much  like  flowers  that  have  stood 
too  long  in  water.  This  sort  of  men  seemed  to  have  a 
notion  that  any  sensible  conversation  was  as  foreign  to  a 
woman's  tastes  as  it  would  be  to  a  parrot's,  and  so  they 
dealt  in  a  stock  of  silly  compliments,  which  were  worn 
threadbare  with  long  use." 

But  the  two  got  on  wonderfully  together,  —  Jessamine, 
bright,  frank,  earnest,  as  she  always  was  when  anybody 
gave  her  a  chance. 

The  lecture  of  the  evening  before  proved  a  stepping-  - 
stone  to  a  great  deal  o£  interesting  and  instructive  talk. 
Mr.  Wilbur  having  recently  visited  France,  and  several 


126  THE  HOLLANDS. 

of  the  cities  which  had  witnessed,  at  the  close  of  the  sev- 
enteenth century,  some  of  the  fiercest  of  the  Huguenot 
persecutions,  had  a  rare  stock  of  information,  which  he 
had  gathered  there  and  in  England  regarding  the  fugi- 
tives ;  and  he  found  it  a  strong  pleasure  to  talk  to  this 
girl,  who  sat  before  him,  with  her  wide  eyes  on  his  face, 
her  breath  going  and  coming,  with  her  questions  as  swift 
and  as  curious  as  any  child's. 

Mr.  Wilbur  took  Jessamine  out  to  supper,  and  would 
have  offered  to  escort  her  home  had  not  Duke  arrived  at 
the  last  moment. 

Mr.  Wilbur's  attentions  had  not  escaped  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge,  but  she  kept  her  own  counsel,  only  going  over 
in  her  own  mind  all  the  points  unquestionably  in  the 
gentleman's  favor.  They  were  not  a  few,  —  intelligence, 
family,  wealth,  position ;  everything,  in  short,  except 
youth,  which  weighed  very  lightly  in  the  scale  against 
so  many  advantages. 

Many  a  young  girl  of  fortune  and  family  has  been 
taken  to  wife  by  an  older  and  far  less  personally  attract- 
ive man  than  John  Wilbur.  One,  too, -did  not  run 'those 
terrible  risks  which  every  mother  must  feel  her  daughter 
did  in  marrying  a  young  man.  In  this  case  the  character 
was  shaped,  the  wealth  and  position  defined,  not  spurs  to 
be  earned  and  won. 

Then,  rich  husbands,  in  New  England,  were  not  as 
thick  as  bees  in  swarming-time.  Any  mother,  who  had 
daughters  whose  future  settlement  in  life  must  be  a  source 
of  more  or  less  anxiety  to  her,  must  have  considered  all 
these  things.  A  young  lady  in  Miss  Holland's  position 


THE  HOLLANDS.  127 

would  have  a  rare  card  fall  to  her  share  if  she  caught 
John  Wilbur. 

So  the  lady  reasoned ;  meanwhile  resolving  to  keep 
her  eyes  open,  and  visions  of  an  elegant  wedding,  and 
Mason  Walbridge  giving  away  the  bride  in  his  usual 
stately  fashion,  floated  before  her'as  a  most  desirable 
finale  to  this  embarrassing  business  of  the  Hollands. 

After  this,  in  one  way  and  another,  John  Wilbur 
and  Jessamine  Holland  were  brought  frequently  together. 

The  Walbridges  had  a  series  of  small  dinner-parties, 
at  which  Mr.  Wilbur  was  always  a  guest.  The  more 
Jessamine  saw  him  the  better  she  liked  him.  Their  ac- 
quaintance grew  rapidly  into  a  certain  kind  of  friendship. 
The  approval  of  so  intelligent  and  cultivated  a  man  was 
really  a  great  compliment  to  her,  she  told  herself,  with  a 
little  touch  of  vanity  that  was  quite  pardonable.  But 
she  had  a  relish  for  his  talk.  There  was  always  some- 
thing new  and  solid  about  it.  He  made  her  talk, 
too,  grave  and  serious  sometimes  as  a  little  nun,  and 
then  brought  to  the  surface  the  latent  sparkle  and  play- 
fulness of  her  nature. 

She  talked  with  Duke  about  the  man,  praising  him  in 
that  natural,  frank  way  which  would  have  been  impossi- 
ble "  if  she  had  had  the  slightest  notion  of  his  being  a 
lover,"  Mrs.  Walbridge  thought,  who  overheard  the  con- 
versation. 

Duke  assented  warmly.  "  Wilbur  was  a  fine,  intelli- 
gent, noble-hearted  fellow,"  he  said.  "He  had  known 
him  from  a  boy  as  the  gentleman,  and  his  father  had  some 
business  relations  at  one  time  which  had  brought  the  fain- 


128  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ilies  on  an  intimate  footing.  He  went  abroad,  and  his 
wife  died  there,  and  he  had  only  been  at  home  at  inter- 
vals since  that  time." 

"  Love  makes  people  keen-sighted.  If  Duke  had  any 
interest  in  Miss  Holland  beyond  the  fact  of  her  being  his 
friend's  sister,  he  would  have  observed  Wilbur's  attentions 
to  the  girl,  though  nobody  else  had.  She,  too,  has  no 
fancy  that  his  attraction  is  of  a  serious  character,  although 
I  am  well  satisfied  of  that ;  but  a  great  many  matches 
are  nipped  in  the  bud  by  meddling.  I  will  let  things  take 
their  own  course." 

And  Mrs.  Walbridge  fell  to  musing  over  Edith  and  her 
matters,  in  which  just  now  the  heart  of  the  mother  was 
more  absorbed  than  in  anything  else.  Duke  was  safe, 
she  wanted  to  believe,  and  did. 

Meanwhile  things  took  their  own  course,  —  a  very 
smooth  one,  —  Mr.  Wilbur  and  Jessamine  getting  on  a 
more  friendly  footing  all  the  time.  She  told  him  in  one 
way  and  another  many  things  about  her  past  life,  and 
talked  over  Ross  with  him  to  her  heart's  content.  Mr. 
Wilbur  had  once  passed  a  year  in  the  East  Indies,  and 
here  was  another  bond  between  the  two.  Jessamine  was 
never  tired  of  hearing  about  the  strange,  mysterious, 
wild,  lavish  life  of  the  tropics.  Its  slow,  hot  winds,  its 
fiery,  throbbing  life,  its  dazzling  hues,  seemed  fairly  to 
encircle  her  as  she  listened,  her  eyes  darkening,  her  face 
uplifted.  Mr.  Wilbur  saw  it  all,  and  had  his  own 
thoughts  about  it,  which,  being  a  reticent  man,  he  kept 
to  himself. 

The  circle  in  which  the  Walbridges  moved  was  quite 


THE  HOLLANDS.  129 

as  alive  to  gossip  as  any  beneath  them ;  but  the  intimacy 
betwixt  Mr.  Wilbur  and  Miss  Holland  was  so  far  removed 
from  anything  like  a  flirtation,  so  straightforward  and 
friendly,  that  nobody  happened  to  dart  on  it.  People 
who  once  heard  fragments  of  their  conversation  fancied 
they  liked  to  talk  together ;  and  it  was  not  singular ; 
Miss  Holland  had  a  wonderful  gift  at  talking,  and  Mr. 
Wilbur  was  a  man  who  liked  sensible  women. 

One  evening,  at  a  little  quiet  supper-party  at  the 
Walbridges,  the  gentleman  said  to  Jessamine,  "I  have 
had  letters  from  Paris,  which  will  take  me  there  a  month 
earlier  than  I  expected.  I  regret  it  very  much  just  at 
this  time." 

' '  Are  you  really  going  abroad  ?  I  am  very  sorry  to 
hear  that,  Mr.  Wilbur,"  —  voice  and  face  touched  with 
a  real  regret. 

The  gentleman  looked  at  her,  with  something  in  his 
eyes  that  brought  a  faint  color  into  her  cheeks.  u  I  am 
glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Miss  Holland,"  he  said,  just 
as  he  had  never  spoken  to  her  before. 

In  a  moment,  however,"he  went  on  to  talk  about  the 
journey,  and  how  he  was  going  to  take  a  trip  into  Wales 
that  summer ;  and  Jessamine  listened  as  only  those  listen 
who  have  a  real  hunger  for  knowledge,  growth,  life  ;  and 
at  last,  drawing  a  little  sigh,  she  said,  as  a  little  child 
might  say  it,  "I  wish  I  could  go  too." 

The  gentleman  smiled  on  her.  You  felt  he  had  a 
pleasant  smile  under  that  grizzled  beard  of  his.  It 
entered  the  dark,  penetrating  eyes,  and  gave  them  a  new 
softness. 


130  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  I  wish  you  could  go  too,  Miss  Holland.  What  is 
there  to  prevent  ?  ' ' 

"Oh,  a  great  many  things,"  answered  Jessamine, 
thinking  that,  after  all,  the  want  of  money  was  the 
chiefest  obstacle  in  the  way.  "Perhaps  some  day  my 
brother  will  come  home  and  take  me ;  though  I  never 
get  so  far  as  that,  Mr.  Wilbur.  A  little  nest  of  a 
cottage,  with  Ross  and  me  together,  fills  up  all  my 
world." 

Jessamine  thought  that  evening,  more  than  once,  how 
sorry  she  was  Mr.  Wilbur  was  going  to  leave  so  soon. 
How  much  she  should  miss  him  !  It  made  her  manner 
kinder  to  him  than  ever.  Gentlemen  in  middle  life,  or 
a  little  past  it,  were  so  much  more  agreeable  than  young 
men,  excepting  Ross  and  Duke  Walbridge ;  but  neither 
of  these  were  like  other  young  men. 

"Mamma,"  said  Gertrude,  next  day,  "I  really  believe 
Mr.  Wilbur  has  taken  a  fancy  to  Miss  Holland." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so,  my  daughter  ?  " 

"Oh,  nonsense!"  exclaimed  Edith,  who  coulc^not 
imagine  that  two  people  could  fall  in  love  with  each  other 
without  a  certain  amount  of  flirting,  and  an  atmosphere 
of  airs  and  graces  on  the  woman's  side,  at  least.  "  Mr. 
Wilbur  likes  to  talk  with  Miss  Holland ;  but  there's  no 
more  falling  in  love  than  there  would  be  if  she  and  papa 
were  to  have  a  chat  together.  Indeed,  theirs  is  on  pre- 
cisely the  same  footing." 

"But  I  hardly  think  it  is,"  answered  Gertrude,  her 
opinion  evidently  a  little  shaken.  "I  watched  them 
last  night  closely,  and  I  thought  Mr.  Wilbur  showed 


THE  HOLLANDS.  131 

a  sort  of  interest  in  Miss  Holland  which  papa  would 
not." 

"In  love  with  Miss  Holland!"  ejaculated  Eva. 
"Why,  Mr.  Wilbur's  old  enough  to  be  her  father." 

"  Many  a  man  who  is  that,  marries  a  young  woman, 
and  makes  her  a  most  excellent  husband,"  added  Mrs. 
Walbridge. 

"In  every  respect  but  that  of  years  it  would  be  a 
great  catch  for  Miss  Holland,"  added  the  second  daugh- 
ter. "Mr.  Wilbur  is  rich,  influential,  arid  all  that." 

Jessamine's  entrance  at  the  moment  put  an  end  to 
the  discussion  of  Mr.  Wilbur's  qualifications  for  matri- 
mony. 

Two  or  three  evenings  later  the  individual  in  question 
called.  It  happened  that  most  of  the  family  were  out, 
the  gentlemen  having  gone  to  some  corporation  meeting, 
and  the  ladies  to  a  concert. 

It  therefore  fell  to  Jessamine's  part  to  entertain  her 
friend  alone.  Their  talk  went  on  smoothly  as  ever,  and 
after  a  while  touched  again  on  the  gentleman's  impending 
journey. 

"  You  said  something  last  evening,  Miss  Holland,  which 
I  liked  so  much  that  I  have  repeated  it  to  myself  many 
times  since." 

' '  You  have  ?  I  cannot  imagine  my  saying  anything 
worth  all  that  consideration ; ' '  her  little  indrawn  laugh 
along  the  words,  which  he  had  come  now  to  know,  and 
like  too. 

"It  was  that  you  wished  you  were  going  abroad 
also." 


132  THE   HOLLANDS. 

"Oh,  I  often  wish  that,  Mr.  Wilbur !  There  is  such 
a  world  of  novelty  and  splendor  and  beauty  on  the 
other  side  of  the  ocean ;  and  yet  it  is  quite  absurd,  my 
wishing  to  see  it,  when  it  is  as  practicable  as  entering  in 
at  the  gates  of  the  moon." 

"  Are  you  quite  certain  that  you  do  not  exaggerate 
the  difficulties  in  your  way,  Miss  Holland  ?  I,  too,  wish 
that  you  'were  going  abroad." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Wilbur.  It  is  very  pleasant  to  have 
friends  who  wish  one  good  things.  But  I  do  not  exag- 
gerate the  difficulties  that  stand  in  my  way  here.  If  I 
was  rich,  it  would  be  quite  another  thing." 

John  Wilbur  looked  at  the  sweet  face  upturned  to  his. 
Its  fine,  delicate  beauty  had  never  struck  him  so  forcibly 
before. 

"  Jessamine,"  he  said,  "  I  am  a  blunt  man,  and  I  can- 
not now  go  seeking  for  fine  and  dainty  phrases  into 
which  to  put  my  honest  meaning.  I  wish  you  would 
let  me  take  you  with  me  when  I  go  abroad  —  as  my 
wife  !  " 

« 

She  stared  at  the  man,  not  comprehending  what  he 
said. 

"I  don't  think  I  understood  you,  Mr.  Wilbur,"  she 
said. 

"  I  asked  you  if  you  would  marry  me." 

A  blankness,  then  a  great  heat  all  over  her  face. 
"Why,  I  never  dreamed  you  thought  of  anything  like 
this." 

' '  I  kriow  you  did  not,  my.  child.  I  was  certain  all 
the  time  you  saw  in  me  only  a  friend,  who  had  something 


THE  HOLLANDS.  133 

to  say  that  interested  and  amused  you.  You  could  not 
easily  regard  a  man  so  old  and  grave  in  the  light  of  a 
lover.  But,  Jessamine,  my  heart  is  not  old,  and  if  you 
will  come  and  nestle  in  it  you  shall  find  warmth  and 
comfort  there!" 

The  heat  in  her  face  still,  the  brown  eyes  clouded  with 
confusion  and  perplexity.  She  put  her  hand  over  them, 
her  mouth  all  a-tremble. 

"I  —  it  is  all  so  strange  and  so  sudden,"  she  stam- 
mered. 

"Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  waited,  and  smoothed  the 
way  to  a  declaration  of  this  sort, ' '  he  said ;  ' '  but  I  had 
rather  you  would  take  time  to  think.  You  are  a  sensible 
little  girl,  and  I  will  trust  your  instincts  to  point  you  to 
the  truth."  And  from  that  the  man  went  on  to  speak  for 
himself,  of  his  boyhood  and  youth,  of  his  early  manhood, 
of  the  wife  tenderly  loved,  whom  he  •  laid  to  sleep  in  a 
foreign  land,  and  of  the  years  that  had  followed,  —  lonely 
years,  with  all  their  worldly  ease  and  prosperity. 

From  this  he  came  -to  speak  of  their  future  together. 
It  was  no  worn,  old,  withered  heart  that  he  offered  her. 
If  she  trusted  it,  she  would  find  it  tender  and  thoughtful 
for  her  to  the  last.  Then  he  dwelt  on  the  new  life  ii 
would  be  his  delight  to  open  to  her,  —  a  life  of  grace,  ease, 
luxury,  whose  tale  lingered  in  her  ears  like  the  music  of 
fairy  bells.  She  should  have  her  day  now.  All  that  the 
fine,  eager  young  soul  panted  for  should  be  hers ;  the  Old 
World,  with  its  wonders  of  Nature  and  its  mysteries  of 
Art,  its  pictures,  its  sculpture,  its  palaces,  and  its  temples, 
should  open  its  doors  to  her.  With  her  own  eyes  she 


134  THE  HOLLANDS. 

should  see  what  she  had  been  told,  as  in  a  vision,  by 
others.  They  would  drift  from  one  city  to  another,  stop- 
ping to  take  inflow  draughts  of  what  each  had  to  offer. 
He  Avas  certain  that  her  heart,  like  his,  must  be  lonely 
for  a  friend  such  as  he  could  be  to  her ;  she,  with  only 
that  one  brother,  and  the  wide  land  and  the  wider  sea 
betwixt  them.  Perhaps  Ross  could  come  to  them,  some 
time,  and  they  could  all  dwell  together  and  be  happy. 

She  had  taken  her  hands  from  her  face  now  ;  the  glis- 
tening eyes  out  of  the  paleness  showed  plainly  enough 
how  the  words  moved  her.  She  was  dazzled  and  con- 
fused; and  through  all  she  heard  John  Wilbur's  voice, 
telling  her  what  a  tender,  faithful  friend  he  would  be. 
Then  a  cloud  of  tears  came  into  the  soft  brightness  of  her 
eyes ;  for,  after  all,  this  friend  was  what  the  lonely,  tired 
little  heart  needed  most  of  all. 

"Will  you  come  to  me,  Jessamine?"  John  Wilbur 
said,  and  rose  up  and  put  his  hands  out. 

Her  look  went  all  over  the  man  as  he  stood  there,  — 
over  his  large,  shapely  figure ;  over  the  fine,  strong  face ; 
over  the  grizzled  hair  and  beard.  He  offered  her  every- 
thing after  which  her  youth  had  gone  thirsting  to  cis- 
terns that  held  no  water.  The  future  spread  before  her ; 
the  glittering  slopes  of  the  years,  —  the  gold  and  the 
purple.  Then  the  friend  who  stood  there,  generous,, 
manly,  noble,  with  his  magician's  wand.  She  did  not 
mind  if  his  years  more  than  doubled  her  own.  Was  not 
this  what  she  wanted,  —  a  heart  steadfast  and  strong 
against  which  hers  could  lean  its  youth  and  weakness  ? 
Had  not  God  sent  him  ? 


THE  HOLLANDS.  135 

Her  breath  came  in  quick,  hot  gasps ;  she  half  rose, 
her  limbs  trembled. 

"  Can  you  not  trust  me,  my  little  friend?  Can  you 
not  give  your  heart  to  me  ?  " 

Her  heart;  yes,  he  would  want  that.  She  had  no 
right  to  take  his  without  giving  hers  in  turn.  She  drew 
a  long  breath.  "  I  ought  to  love  you  a  great  deal,  — 
better  even  than  Ross,  and  —  and —  " 

' '  I  will  not  press  you,  child,  for  an  answer.  Let  me 
come  to-morrow  or  next  day.  I  should  want  your  heart, 
—  I  should  not  dare  urge  you  to  come  to  me  without  you 
could  give  me  that ;  but  young  girls  do  not  always  un- 
derstand. That  might  come  in  time,  you  know." 

"  In  time* —  yes,"  she  said,  doubtfully,  as  though  it 
had  not  come  yet,  the  face  looking  at  him  full  of  pain 
and  perplexity.  Then  she  caught  eagerly  at  his  promise 
to  wait. 

"It  had  come  so  suddenly,"  she  stammered  again. 
"He  must  not  be  offended  with  her.  As  a  friend,  he 
was  very  dear  to  her ;  and  for  the  rest,  only  give  her 
time,  and  she  would  deal  truly  with  him." 

"  No  airs  nor  vanities  of  any  sort,"  he  noticed ;  but  a 
trouble  in  her  face  that  unbent  it  like  a  child's.  Yet  it 
was  her  first  offer,  and,  despite  the  difference  of  their 
years,  one  that  she  might  be  proud  of. 

She  put  up  her  hand  now.  in  a  tired,  fluttering  sort 
of  way,  to  her  forehead,  the  gesture  showing,  more  than 
all  which  had  gene  before,  how  deeply  she  was  moved. 

Then  she  held  out  both  hands  toward  him ;  her  eyes 
were  darkened  with  tears.  "When  a  man  offers  a 


136  THE  HOLLANDS. 

woman  all  you  have  me  to-night,  it  seems  like  an  insult  to 
thank  him.  Ah,  my  friend,  you  have  made  me  feel 
humbler  than  I  ever  did  in  my  life  before." 

11 1  had  rather  hear  you  say  you  felt  proud  and  glad,  my 
child,"  taking  the  hands,  and  hiding  them  away  in  his 
warm  ones.  "  But  it  is  an  honest  little  heart.  I  can 
trust  it.  Whatever  its  answer  is,  it  will  be  true  to  itself, 
—  to  me  also."  And  he  went  away. 

Jessamine  was  tired  in  every  nerve  of  her  body.  She 
could  not  think  now ;  and  she  went  upstairs,  only  add- 
ing to  the  prayer  which  Ross  and  she  used  to  make  to- 
gether at  nightfall,  and  which  she  always  said  to  herself 
in  any  time  of  joy,  or  trouble,  or  perplexity,  because  it 
seemed  to  bring  the  fresh  child-heart  into  her  "again,  —  only 
adding  to  that  a  prayer  that  God  would  show  her  the  way 
which  was  best  and  wisest  for  herself  !Lnd  for  him  also ; 
and  then  she  laid  her  head  on  her  pillow,  and  fell  into  a 
sleep  that  was  like  the  sound,  sweet  slumber  of  her  child- 
hood. 

The  next  morning,  Jessamine  woke  up  with  a  vague 
feeling  that  a  great  crisis-  of  her  fate  was  at  hand.  In  a 
few  moments  all  that  had  passed  the  night  before  cleared 
itself  to  her  memory. 

"  John  Wilbur's  wife  !  "  She  said  the  words  over  once 
or  twice  to  herself  before  she  rose,  trying  how  they 
sounded,  with  a  little  smile  and  blush ;  but  there  was  no 
thrill  in  her  pulses,  no  transport  at  her  heart. 

She  thought  of  all  this  man  had  offered  her,  —  home, 
wealth,  luxury,  tenderness,  —  all  that  her  youth  had 
pined  for.  She  felt  unutterably  grateful  to  him.  How 


THE  HOLLANDS.  137 

beautiful  that  new  life  which  he  had  promised  looked  to 
her,  —  like  a  fair  country  into  which  her  soul  could  go 
and  take  possession,  saying  to  itself,  "No  more  loneliness 
and  poverty,  nor  longing4!  " 

"But  did  she  love  this  man?  That  was  the  vital 
question," —  moving  her  limbs  restlessly.  He  must  have 
her  heart,  — his  words  coming  back,  — '"  he  woulcl  not 
dare  to  urge  her  to  come  without  that."  He  ought  to 
be  first  and  dearest;  and  John  Wilbur  could  never  be 
that  to  her  ;  he  could  never  be  what  Ross  was ;  and  she 
had  a  vague  prescience  that  her  heart  held  some  depth 
of  tenderness  and  devotion  which  even  Ross  had  never 
sounded. 

Yet  she  liked  Mr.  Wilbur  very,  very  much  :  liked  to 
be  near  him,  to  hear  him  talk.  It  would  be  a  very  de- 
lightful thing  to  go  all  over  the  world  with  him,  to  see 
everything  that  was  worth  seeing,  and.  after  all,  would 
she  ever  find  anybody  else  whom* she  could  care  for  more 
of  than  she  did  for  this  man,  who  never  bored  her, 
whose  presence  was  always  agreeable  to  her? 

Jessamine  dressed  herself  that  morning  with  a  great 
doubt  in  her  soul.  Mrs.  Wralbridge  watched  the  girl 
narrowly  at  breakfast.  The  lady  was  keen-scented  in 
matters  of  this  sort,  and  Eva  had  told  her  that  Mr.  Wil- 
bur had  been  there  the  evening  before,  and  there  had 
been  nobody  but  Miss  Holland  to  entertain  him,  as  the 
family  were  out,  and  Eva  had  been  occupied  with  her 
lessons.  Miss  Holland  had  gone  upstairs  almost  imme- 
diately after  Mr.  Wilbur  left,  saying  she  felt  tired. 

"How   long    did    he  stay,    dear?"    while  the  girls 


138  THE  HOLLANDS. 

were  chattering  like  magpies  over  the  concert,  and  paid 
no  heed  to  what  Eva  was  saying. 

"  I  don't  know  precisely ;  but  it  might  have  been  a 
couple  of  hours ;  at  any  rate,  a  good  while." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  said  no  more ;  but  she  put  Eva's  ti- 
dings with  some  observations  and  suspicions  of  her  own, 
and  the  joints  fitted  nicely.  The  lady's  keen  scrutiny 
of  Jessamine  confirmed  her  impressions.  The  girl  was 
restless  and  abstracted.  Mrs.  Walbridge  felt  that  Jessa- 
mine's youth  and  inexperience  needed  a  friend  now; 
all  young  girls  did  at  such  junctures  in  their  lives,  and 
the  lady  had  no  doubt  of  being  fully  qualified  to  act  the 
part  of  judicious  confidant  and  adviser  at  this  time.  She 
had  never  felt  quite  so  friendly  toward  Jessamine  Hol- 
land as  she  did  that  morning.  She  recalled  the  fact 
that  here  was  a  young,  motherless  girl  under  her  roof, 
who  had  now  to  decide  the  most  important  question  of  a 
woman's  life. 

Of  course  Mrs.  Walbridge  could  not  offer  her  advice 
unsolicited,  and  Jessamine  might  shrink  from  a  disclos- 
ure of  her  secret ;  but  the  lady  would  bide  her  time, 
and  make  the  way  easy  for  the  girl.  There  was  a  severe 
snow-fall  that  morning,  which  kept  them  all  in-doors. 
It  was  a  day  for  warm,  cosey  home-nestling  in  corners 
and  groups,  —  one  of  those  days  which  bring  to  the  sur- 
face of  household  talk  many  a  hidden  sympathy,  feeling, 
conviction,  that  has  never  seen  the  light  before. 

Everything  aided  Mrs.  Walbridge's  purpose.  The 
girls  brought  their  books,  drawings,  and  dainty  attempts 
at  sewing,  into  a  corner.  Some  gossip  about  engagements 


THE  HOLLANDS.  .       139 

started  the  conversation,  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  availed  her- 
self of  this  to  make  some  general  statements  about  love  as 
young  girls  fancy  it,  which  sounded  very  sensibly,  and 
might  fit  the  case  in  point.  She  was  not  mistaken  :  Jes- 
samine put  down  her  sewing,  and  turned  toward  the  lady 
with  a  half-suppressed  eagerness  in  her  face. 

Edith,  however,  was  not  done  with  the  gossip.  She 
went  on,  heedless  of  her  mother's  remarks.  "  She  has 
had  so  many  offers,  and.  to  my  mind,  she  has  taken  up 
with  the  poorest  of  the  lot." 

The  elegant  Edith  sometimes  seasoned  her  remarks 
with  a  little  coarseness,  which  surprised  Jessamine. 

The  girl  turned  a  shocked  face  on  the  speaker.  "  How 
very  unpleasant  it  must  be  for  the  lady  to  feel  the  world 
knows  all  about  the  offers  !" 

Edith's  light,  sceptical  laugh  answered  with  her  words, 
—  "I  don't  think  the  lady  would  be  at  all  distressed 
over  that  fact,  as  she  has  confided  each  offer  to  hosts  of 
her  friends." 

Jessamine's  face  flushed  indignantly.  "  I  should  think 
it  most  dishonorable  to  betray  a  man's  confidence  in  that 
way." 

"  Those  things,  of  course,  are  not  to  be  made  public," 
answered  Mrs.  Walbridge.  ' '  But  all  young  ladies,  at 
such  times,  need  the  counsel  of  some  friend  of  wider 
knowledge  and  experience  than  themselves  ;  and  if  they 
do  not  choose  wisely,  the  whole  thing  is  very  likely  to 
be  made  common  gossip." 

"  But,  mamma,  I  thought  young  ladies  told  their  offers, 
and  had  a  great  deal  of  pride  in  it.  I  know  some  who 


140      •  THE  HOLLANDS. 

do,  anyhow,"  —  with  a  significant  glance  in  the  direction 
of  her  elder  sisters. 

"Daughter,"  said  Mrs.  Walbridge,  with  unusual 
severity,  "  it  is  better  for  little  girls  never  to  talk  upon 
matters  about  which  they  know  nothing." 

Jessamine's  look  had  turned  on  the  lady  a  moment,  and 
rested  there.  The  lonely,  perplexed  heart  within  her 
needed  some  friend  stronger  and  wiser  than  itself  to  trust 
in  this  great  strait.  She  thought  of  Hannah  Bray,  with 
her  strong  native  sense  and  warm,  motherly  heart,  and 
wished  she  could  go  and  lay  down  her  head  on  the  coarse 
gingham  apron,  and  tell  her  story,  sure  of  getting  up 
steadier  and  clearer  at  the  end.  There  was  a  motherless 
pain  in  the  girl's  heart  at  that  moment. 

There  sat  the  lady  with  her  mild,  pleasant  face,  and 
her  modulated  tones.  She  was  certain  that  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge  would  listen  kindly  and  interested  to  all  Jessa- 
mine might  say. 

But  a  little  shiver  came  over  the  girl  as  she  looked. 
There  was  something  which  she  wanted  that  was  not  in 
this  woman  to  give.  She  could  hardly  define  what,  but 
she  felt  it ;  something  homely,,  real,  tender.  Jessamine 
drew  a  long  breath.  Wherever  the  truth  lay,  she  must 
seek  it  for  herself,  alone. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  had  seen  the  look,  and  fancied  she 
divined  its  meaning.  In  a  few  moments  she  rose  and 
went  into  the  conservatory,  and  her  voice  presently  came 
back.  "  Won't  you  do  me  the  favor  to  walk  in  here,  Miss 
Jessamine  ?  I  want  to  show  you  how  the  orange-trees 
have  blossomed  within  a  few  days." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  141 

• 

Of  course,  Jessamine  went. 

There  was  something  a  little  unusual  in  the  bland 
kindness  of  Mrs.  Walbridge's  manner,  while  the  two  were 
in  the  "conservatory  together  that  morning. 

As  the  girl  stood  there,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  color 
and  fragrance  that  made  a  bit  of  hot  midsummer  in  the 
heart  of  the  stormy  winter  day,  the  lady  said,  "with. her 
pleasantest  smile,  pointing  to  the  clusters  of  snowy  blos- 
soms among  the  dark  burnished  green  of  the  leaves :  — 

"  You  know  the  tradition  of  orange-flowers,  -my  dear. 
For  myself,  I  must  own  I  have  an  affection  for  them  on 
that  account,  and  I  never  see  a  heap  of  these  in  full 
bloom,  without  feeling  an  impulse  at  my  fingers'  ends  to 
twine  them  into  a  bridal  wreath,  fancying,  too,  some  fair, 
young  face  all  smiles  and  blushes  beneath  them.  Some 
day,  my  dear  Miss  Jessamine,  I  hope  I  shall  have  the 
pleasure  of  twining  my  blossoms  here  ;  "  and  she  actually 
touched  the  soft  hair  with  her  fingers. 

Certainly  this  was  "opening  the  door"  with  a  tact 
worthy  of  Mrs.  Wajbridge.  Jessamine  glanced  up  at 
the  lady  again,  some  feeling  flushing  and  stirring  her 
face. 

She  was  on  the  very  point  of  speaking  ;  but  something 
held  the  words  back,  for  which  Mrs.  Walbridge,  seeing 
the  movement,  stood  confidently  waiting. 

Jessamine  half  drew  and  smothered  a  sigh.  It  seemed 
as  though  her  words  were  stubborn.. and  would  not  come 
though  she  wanted  them.  They  would  have  come  quick 
enough  to  Hannah  Bray  though. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  a  good  deal  chagrined,  when,  after 


142  THE  HOLLANDS. 

• 

a  little  further  talk  over  the  flowers,  Miss  Holland  went 
up  to  her  room. 

"  I  thought  she  certainly  would  speak  then,"  said  the 
lady  to  herself.  "  She  seemed  on  the  very  point  of  it 
too.  What  could  have  held  her  back  ?  If,  after  all,  she 
should  let  John  Wilbur  slip,  what  a  golden  chance  she 

would  lose!     I  wanted  to  tell  her  this; -but  one  could 

• 

hardly  venture  so  far  as  that  without  the  slightest  en- 
couragement. There  is  doubt  at  work  in  her  mind,  I  see ; 
probably  his  age,  or  some  romantic  notion  about  love, 
which  young  girls  are  very  apt  to  have.  I  hope  she  will 
act  wisely  for  herself  in  this  case  ;  for,  of  course,  it  is  her 
own  interest  solely  that  I  regard." 

Meanwhile  the  object  of  Mrs.  Walbridge's  solicitude 
was  walking  up  and  down  her  room,  her  hands  behind 
her,  as  had  been  her  habit  from  her  childhood,  when  in 
any  trouble  or  perplexity,  —  a  habit  which  sat  with  such  a 
quaint,  odd  air  on  the  small  figure,  that  it  had  been 
vastly  amusing  to  older  people. 

Jessamine  heard  the  crying  of  the  winds  outside,  and 
sometimes  she  went  and  looked  out  through  the  thick 
driving  of  the  snow,  and  up  to  the  gray  solid  mass  of 
cloud  overhead,  —  a  sweet,  troubled,  delicate  face  at  the 
window-pane  ;  the  girl  thinking  how,  under  all  the  blasts, 
and  cold,  and  darkness,  lay  waiting  the  wonderful  Eden 
of  summer,  —  the  green  leaves,  the  slipping  of  streams 
among  the  hill-sides,  the  springing  of  grass,  the  glory  of 
flowers,  the  singing  of  the  birds  through  the  <rolden  air. 
If  all  that  could  afford  to  wait  God's  time,  so  could  she : 
neither  storm  nor  darkness  should  chill  her. 


THE   HOLLANDS.  143 

Under  the  drifting  of  these  thoughts  was  another,  not 
coming  and  going,  but  asking  her  soul  all  the  time  : 
"  Jessamine  Holland,  are  you  going  to  marry  this  man, 
John  Wilbur?" 

She  turned  and  faced  it  now,  as  it  loomed  up  before 
her,  resuming  her  walk,  her  soft  palms  locked  together 
behind  her. 

Did  she  love  him  ?  She  began  to  see  that  her  fate 
hinged  on  that  point,  —  that  respect,  friendliness,  trust 
even,  were  not  that  other  thing. 

She  did  not  love  that  man  as  she  loved  Ross,  —  never 
could.  If  that  brother  of  hers  should  come  to  her  with- 
out a  friend  or  a  dollar,  forgotten  and  forsaken  of  all  men 
and  women,  her  hungry  heart  would  still  cling  to  him 
out  of  all  the  world,  holding  him  crowned,  beloved,  and 
precious. 

But  strip  John  Wilbur  of  all  the  world  gave  him,  — 
wealth,  position,  influence,  —  and  what  would  he  be  to 
her  ?  A  friend  whose  character  she  might  honor,  whose 
sorrows  she  might  pity ;  but  beyond  that,  —  nothing. 
Why  was  it,  then,  that  the  prospect  of  being  John  Wil- 
bur's wife  had  in  it  something  very  pleasant  ?  Because, 
.and  solely  because,  he  could  give  her  what  her  soul  and 
senses  craved,  —  wealth,  luxury,  ease.  For  these  things 
she  would  marry  him,  and  not  for  himself.  Her  way 
began  to  clear  now.  For  these  things  —  these  flesh-pots 
of  Egypt  —  she  had  no  right  to  sell  herself.  It  was 
giving  up,  it  is  true,  something  that  only  God  and  her 
own  soul  knew  how  much  she  hungered  for.  Once  the  old 
life  at  Hannah  Bray's  rose,  in  all  its  bare,  stark  dreuri- 


144  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ness  before  her,  barer  and  drearier  than  ever,  now  she* 
had  had  a  glimpse  into  this  new  one. 

The  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  It  seemed  so  very 
hard.  If  she  could  only  love  John  Wilbur  just  a  little. 
But  it  was  no  use  to  try.  She  had  no  right  to  share  his 
wealth,  the  grace  and  splendor  in  which  he  would  set  her. 
They  were  not  hers.  She  would  not  sell  her  birthright 
for  them.  Could  she  go  to  the  altar,  knowing  in  her  secret 
soul  that  it  was  the  man's  wealth,  not  himself,  whom  she 
married  ?  It  would  be  sin.  She  would  not  lift  herself 
out  of  her  poverty  and  her  loneliness  by  a  false  marriage, 
any  more  than  she  would  help  herself  to  heaps  of  un- 
counted gold  which  lay  in  her  path,  and  which  belonged 
to  another.  In  either  case  she  would  be  a  thief,  and  she, 
Jessamine  Holland,  might  go  mourning  to  her  death  for 
the  good  things  of  this  life ;  but  she  would  come  by  them 
honestly,  or  not  at  all. 

So  she  had  come  into  the  light  at  last.  This  was  the 
wisdom  for  which  she  had  prayed  last  night.  Yet  it  is 
not  always  given  to  women  in  such  straits  as  hers. 

There  came  a  time  long  afterward  when  Jessamine 
Holland  looked  back  and  saw  that  her  soul  would  not  have 
answered  so  promptly  and  absolutely  her  solemn  ques- 
tion, if,  altogether  unconsciously  to  herself,  there  had  not 
hovered  over  her  the  prescience  of  what  a  real  love  meant. 

Mr.  Wilbur  came  the  evening  of  the  following  day. 
Jessamine  was  talking  with  Duke  at  the  moment,  Eva 
fluttering  between  them  as  usual. 

The  waiter  came  toward  the  group,  and  said,  in  a  low 
voice,  that  Mr.  Wilbur  desired  to  see  Miss  Holland  in 


THE  HOLLANDS.  145 

the  parlor.  The  man  evidently  had  an  intuition,  that, 
friendly  as  was  the  gentleman's  footing  in  the  Walbridge 
family,  this  visit  was  intended  solely  for  the  young  lady. 

Duke  and  Eva  stared,  and  Jessamine,  feeling,  with  a 
sudden  sinking  of  heart,  that  her  time  had  come,  made 
some  apology,  and  hurried  up  to  her  own  room  a  moment 
to  collect  her  thoughts  before  she  went  down  into  the 
parlor. 

You  must  remember  that.it  was  this  girl's  first  offer; 
and  Jessamine  was  very  much  of  a  woman,  with  all  the 
truth  and  courage  which  lay  wrought  up  in  that  warm 
little  heart  of  hers.  She  would  have  been  more  or  less 
than  one,  had  she  not  felt  keenly  the  great  compliment 
which  Mr.  Wilbur's  choice  had  paid  her,  choosing  the 
little,  quiet  country  girl  from  amid  all  the  accomplished 
and  elegant  young  ladies  in  the  Walbridge  circle. 

She  stood  a  moment  before  the  mirror,  ^ind  she  realized, 
as  she  had  never  done  before,  that  the  face  which  smiled 
on  her  was  a  very  fair  one.  She  smoothed  the  dark  hair 
about  it ;  and  then,  opening  her  drawer,  took  out  a  puff 
of  Valenciennes  lace,  which  had  been  one  of  her  Christ- 
mas gifts,  and  gathered  the  snowy  laces  about  her  throat. 
Then  her  conscience,  swift  and  sensitive,  called  to  her, 
"Jessamine,  Jessamine,  what  are  you  doing  that  for? 
Why  do  you  seek  to  look  fair  in  the  eyes  of  this  man, 
whose  offer  you  are  now  to  refuse?  Are  you  weak 
enough  to  try  to  enhance  your  value  and  his  loss  at  this 
moment  ?  It  is  your  duty  to  take  no  pains  with  yourself 
this  night;  it  would  be  nobler  to  try  and  look  as  homely 
as  you  can." 

13 


146  THE  HOLLANDS. 

There  was  a  little  struggle,  —  she  was  very  human,  as 
I   said,  —  then   she  took  up   a  plain    linen  collar  and 
pinned  at  Tier  throat ;  not  even  the  bit  of  color  there  • 
which  she  usually  wore  ;  but  that  was  atoned  for  by  the 
flush  in  her  cheeks  as  she  went  downstairs. 

"I  believe,"  said  Eva,  drawing  near  to  Duke  as  Jes- 
samine left  the  room,  "  that  what  Gertrude  said  the  other 
day  was  true,  after  all." 

"What  did  she  say,  Eva?" 

"  That  she  thought  Mr.  Wilbur  had  taken  a  real  fancy 
to  Miss  Jessamine.  It  looks  like  it  now,  his  just  calling 
and  asking  for  her  alone,  leaving  out  all  the  rest  of  us.. 
I  think  it  would  be  sort  of  nice  if —  if —  now  —  " 

"  If  what?  "  asked  Duke,  in  a  very  curt  tone. 

"Why,  if  they  should  like  each  other,  and  something 
serious  should  come  of  it,", answered  Eva,  who  had  a 
young  girl's  natural  fondness  for  lovers  and  weddings, 
and  who  had  been  brought  over  to  her  mother's  way  of 
thinking,  "that  the  age  was  no  great  matter,  after  all." 

"It  is  too  absurd  to  enter  anybody's  thought,"  an- 
swered .  Duke,  in  his  most  positive  and  provoking  way. 
"  A  man  old  enough  to  be  her  grandfather  !  When 
girls  get  to  talking,  they  never  show  common  sense." 

Eva  bridled  a  little  at  this  sweeping  condemnation  of 
her  sex. 

"Girls  usually  see  a  good  deal  quicker  into  such  mat- 
ters than  men,  anyhow ;  and  as  for  Mr.  Wilbur,  if  he 
isn't  young  he's  everything  else  that's  nice  and  good,  and 
I  would  sooner  marry  him  to-night  than  most  of  the  gen- 
tlemen whom  I  know." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  .         14  7 

Mr.  Wilbur  and  Eva  hadf  from  the  beginning,  been  on 
excellent  terms. 

"  You're  a  child,  Eva,  and  don't  know  what  you  are 
talking  about." 

Eva's  amiability  was  a  good  deal  nettled  by  this  time, 
and  it  must  be  admitted  not  without  provocation.  "  If  I 
am  such  a  child,  Duke  Walbridge,"  she  said,  very 
spiritedly,  "  I  am  just  over  fifteen,  and  I  don't  think  that 
is  a  very  infantile  age  anyhow." 

"  Nobody  would  suspect  that  from  your  looks  or  ac- 
tions." 

What  had  come  over  Duke  to-night  ?  He  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  talking  in  this  way  to  his  favorite  little 
sister.  Eva  felt  a  little  hurt;  looking  up  into  her  brother's 
fac.e,  which  had  settled  into  something  stern  and  hard  as 
his  voice.  There  was  no  use  talking  to  him  now  ;  and 
she  went  off  to  join  her  sisters  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room,  and  communicate  Mr.  Wilbur's  arrival. 

Meanwhile,  Duke  Walbridge  sat  still,  as  though  he  had 
been  turned  suddenly  to  stone  in  his  chair.  But  beneath 
all  the  hard  whiteness  there  was  a  hot  life  and  pain,  such 

as  he  had  never  known  before.     It  had  come  there  in  the 

j 

last  few  moments.  What  could  it  mean  ?  He  thought 
of  John  Wilbur  with  a  sudden  flash  of  hatred,  as  though 
the  man  had  done  him  some  horrible  wrong ;  the  man 
who  had  been  an  especial  favorite  of  Duke's  all  through 
the  latter's  boyhood.  He  heard  Jessamine  Holland's 
feet  coming  down  the  stairs.  He  thirsted  to  go  out  and 
drag  her  inside  the  door,  from  the  very  presence  of  the 
man  who  was  waiting  below.  He  drew  his  breath  hard 


148        •  THE  HOLLANDS. 

• 

as,  listening  intently,  he  heard  her  enter  the  room  and 
the  door  close. 

What  did  it  mean  that  the  sister  of  Boss  Holland  had 
power  thus  to  shake  his  soul  to  its  centre  ?  Was  she 
something  to  him  beyond  this,  —  the  sister  of  the  friend 
who  had  almost  given  his  life  for  him  ? 

Duke  Walbridge  winced  under  this  question  which  rose 
in  the  silence  of  his  soul,  and  he  covered  his  eyes  with 
his  hand,  while  the  blood  came  darkly  into  his  cheeks, 
and  his  heart  throbbed  like  a  frightened  woman's.  Then 
he  thought  of  Jessamine,  and  something  unutterably 
strong,  and  sweet,  and  tender,  flooded  his  soul.  Whether 
it  was  bliss  or  pain  he  could  not  tell ;  but  it  was  an  ex- 
quisite delight,  which' made  him  feel  manlier  and  braver, 
and  yet  humbler  and  tenderer  toward  all  the  world. 

"  What  does  it  mean?  What  does  it  meln  ?  "  The 
question  going  restless  and  hungry  to  and  fro  in  his 
thought,  like  winds  that  fall  and  rise  before  a  storm; 
and  at  last  he  answered,  softly,  with  some  feeling  which 
brought  the  tears  into  his"  eyes,  ' '  It  means  that  I  love 
you,  O  Jessamine  Holland  /" 

Mr.  Wilbur  came  straight  toward  the  girl,  as  she 
entered  the  parlor ;  he  gave  her  both  his  hands,  his  intent 
eyes  on  her  face.  Despite  the  linen  collar  and  the  lack 
of  color,  he  thought  he  had  never  seen  her  look  quite  so 
pretty  before. 

"  Well,  my  little  friend,  have  you  decided?  "  he  asked. 

All  the  surface  vanity  and  flutterings  had  slipped 
away  now.  She -was  a  woman,  with  a  solemn  duty  before 
her.  She  felt  very  sorry  for  him  —  very  sorry  for  her- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  149 

self,  too,  wondering  which"  would  find  it  the  harder  to 
bear. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Wilbur,",  said  the  sweet,  steady,  sorrowful 
voice,  "I  have  decided." 

He  knew  then  that  it  had  gone  against  him.  His  face 
changed ;  he  drew  back  from  her.  "  You  will  not  come 
to  me,  Jessamine  ?  "  —  a  great  regret  in  his  tones. 

Then  she  told  him  the  simple  truth  ;  that  she  could  not 
come  without  her  heart ;  she  had  tried  to  bring  him 
that,  but  it  could  not  be. 

He  tried  to  argue  with  her.  "Young  girls  were  ro- 
mantic ;  and  a  grave,  practical  man,  such  as  he  was, 
could  not  expect  to  inspire  the  ardent  affection  that  a 
young  lover  would.  But  he  would  be  content  to  wait  for 
that,  and  he.  believed  his  tenderness  and  devotion  could 
make  her  happiness,  and  win  her  love  in  time." 

She  feared  she  was  swaying  as  she  listened.  All  that 
he  said  seemed  so  natural,  so  true.  The  color  went 
'down  in  her  face,  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  There 
was  something  yet  which  she  had  held  back.  She  told 
him  that  now  ;  held  up  before  him  her  past  life,  with  its 
loneliness,  deprivation  on  every  side ;  and  then  she  showed 
to  him  what  the  life  he  offered  to  her  must  be  in  contrast ; 
all  the  ease,  grace,  luxury,  the  world  abroad,  —  the  sights 
and  sounds  for  which  she  hungered. 

"Yet,"  lifting  up  the  moved  face,  bright  through  all 
its  paleness,  "  do  not  tempt  me,  Mr.  Wilbur ;  I  cannot  do 
you  and  my  own  soul  the  great  wrong  to  take  what  I 
have  no  right  to,  bringing  you  no  heart  in  return.  All 
the  time  I  should  be  certain  that  I  was  selling  myself  for 


150  THE  HOLLANDS. 

your  wealth ;  that  it  was  that  and  not  you  I  married. 
You  are  a  strong  man.  Be  pitiful  to  me.  Help  me  to 
be  true  to  myself." 

-  He  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room  drinking  in 
every  word.  He  came  now  and  stood  before  her. 
"Jessamine,"  he  said,  "I  will  love  at  the  beginning 
enough  for  us  both.  You  will  give  me  your  confidence, 
your  friendship.  I  will  be  content  with  that  at  first, 
believing  that  in  due  time  my  reward  will  come." 

For  a  moment  she  swayed  toward  him  again.  That 
warm,  glowing  life  beyond  stood  smiling  and  waiting  for 
her.  She  had  dealt  truly  by  him,  and  if,  out  of  the 
abundance  of  his  love  and  generosity,  he  was  willing  to 
take  her  as  she  must  come,  why  should  she  hesitate  ? 

But  as  she  sat  there  looking  at  him,  with  her  pale, 
perplexed  face,  some  other  thought  came  to  her  help  ;  a 
moment  afterward  it  was  embodied  in  her  answer.  "  No," 
she  said,  shaking  -her  head  slowly,  -"  it  is  I  that  must 
speak  for  both  of  us,  —  I  that  must  be'  too  truly  your 
friend,  Mr.  Wilbur,  to  let  you  do  yourself  this  great 
wrong.  You  are  worthy  of  a  woman's  whole  heart; 
your  tenderness  and  devotion  deserve  it.  Be  satisfied 
with  no  less.  If,  tempted  by  all  you  promise  me,  I  should 
consent  to  be  your  wife  against  my  highest  convictions, 
it  would  not  be  myself  that  you  would  take,  but  some- 
thing lowered,  untrue,  false  forever  afterward. 

'  "  I  am  tired  for  rest,  I  am  sick  for  freedom.  I  am 
starved  for  life's  grace  and  beauty,  and  the  old  life  makes 
me  shiver  as  I  think  of  going  down  into  its  cold  and  bar- 
renness, and  the  one  you  offer  me  lies  fair  as  a  very 


THE  HOLLANDS.  151 

garden  of  Eden  before  me.  But  I  dare  not  go  in ;  before 
God,  I  dare  not !  Have  pity  upon  me.  Be  a  man,  and 
help  me ;  for  you  can  never  know  all  it  costs  me  to  refuse 
this  you  have  asked." 

Her  hands  clasped,  her  wet  face  shining  up  to  him 
through  its  tears.  It  roused  whatever  was  generous  and 
noble  in  the  man.  He  came  toward  her,  he  took  her 
little  hands  in  his  :  — • 

' '  My  little  friend,  whom  I  would  have  more  to  me,  — 
but  it  cannot  be,  —  you  have  been  true  and  brave  to-night, 
and  God  will  bless  you  for  it.  It  has  been  a  hard  dis- 
appointment to  me ;  but  for  all  that  I  feel  that  you  are  in 
the  right,  and  that  in  the  end  I  could  never  be  happy 
with  the  wife  who  did  not  bring  me  her  heart." 

He  stopped  here  and  looked  at  her ;  he  longed  to  tell 
her  how  freely  his  ample  means  were  still  at  her  disposal ; 
how  it  would  delight  him  to  set  her  youth  in  pleasant 
paths  afar  from  those  lonely,  barren  ones,  where  she  had 
walked  so  long,  but  something  in  her  face  held  his  words 
back. 

He  drew  her  to. him,  kissed  her  forehead  tenderly,  put 
his  cheek  ttown  to  hers,  and  said,  "  Good-by,  Jessamine," 
in  a  way  that  told  her  it  was  for  the  last  time,  and  then 
went  away. 

Duke  knew  that  Mr.  Wilbur  had  been  gone  more  than 
an  hour,  when  Jessamine  re-entered  the  sitting-room. 
She  came  back  in  her  soft  way,  with  some  little  serious- 
ness in  her  face.  Everybody  looked  up,  for  everybody 
had  a  suspicion  what  John  Wilbur's  errand  had  been  that 
night. 


152  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  secretly  uneasy  and  curious  ;  that 
lady  having  been  out  when  Mr.  Wilbur  called ;  but  the 
girls  had  confided  the  fact  to  their  mother,  on  her  return, 
with  characteristic  comments.  Jessamine's  manner  had 

* 

of  late  puzzled  the  lady  a  good  dealt  Mrs.  Walbridge 
prided  herself  on  her  discernment,  but  she  could  not  make 
up  her  own  mind  whether  Jessamine  Holland  was  going 
to  accept  Mr.  Wilbur  or  not.  She  had  a  kind  of  feeling 
that  the  girl  would  do  her  a  personal  wrong  by  refusing 
him,  although  she  never  admitted  this  to  herself  even. 

"  Has  Mr.  Wilbur  gone?  "  said  Eva,  almost  as  soon  as 
Jessamine  entered;  a  question  which  nobody  else  had 
courage  to  ask. 

"  Oh,  yes;  he  left  more  than  an  hour  ago,"  was  the 
quiet  answer. 

Then  everybody  knew.  Mrs.  Walbridge  was  secretly 
exasperated. 

"That  girl  must  set  a  very  high  value  on  herself,  to 
refuse  a  man  like  John  Wilbur.  Why,  if  he  had  wanted 
my  Edith,  I  don't  think  I  should  have  demurred." 

Happily  Jessamine  suspected  nothing  of  what  was 
going  on  in  the  thoughts  of  the  people  about  h*er. 

"  I  began  to  think  you  were  not  coming  back  this  even- 
ing, Miss  Jessamine,"  said  Duke,  as  she  took  her  seat. 
He  said  it  in  his  kindest  way,  but  then  she  was  used  to 
kind  sayings  from  Duke,-because  she  was  Ross  Holland's 
sister,  she  supposed. 

Just  now,  however,  she  felt  singularly  forlorn  and 
homesick ;  remembering,  too,  that  the  only  home  she  had 
was  the  little  bare  room  under  Hannah  Bray's  roof. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  153 

"Why,  have  you  missed  me?"  she  asked,  half  ab- 
sently, as  perhaps  she  would  not  had  she  stopped  to 
think  twice. 

"  Oh,  yes;  I  have  missed  you  very  much,  Miss  Jessa- 
mine." He  spoke  the  word  low,  and  with  some  singular 
emphasis  of  tone  that  roused  her. 

She  looked  up  in  his  eyes,  and  he  smiled  on  her,  his 
own  rare  smile  of  lips  and  eyes. 

It  entered  her  heart  like  light.  It  brought  the  soft 
flush  into  her  cheeks. 

Somehow  Duke  felt  quite  at  ease  now  about  John 
Wilbur. 

Then  they  all  three  fell  into  the  old  mood  of  talking, 
only  softer  and  graver  than  usual,  it  seemed  to  Jessamine ; 
and  she  went  to  her  room  that  night  with  a  heart  com- 
forted and  lighter,  she  could  not  tell  why. 


154  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XL 

AGAIN  there  was  company  at  the  Walbridges.  This 
time  the  arrivals  were  from  New  York.  A  young  lady, 
the  only  daughter  and  heiress  of  a  retired  banker,  ' '  a 
man  whose  figures  would  not  foot  up  short  of  a  million." 
to  quote  Mr.  Walbridge  literally.  The  young  lady  was 
accompanied  by  her  aunt,  her  mother  having  died  several 
years  previous  to  this  visit.  Mrs.  Ashburn,  sister  of  the 
lattej,  herself  a  widow,  had  long  resided  in  the  elegant 
home  of  her  brother-in-law.  • 

The  lady  had  been  a  youthful  companion  of  Mrs. 
"Walbridge,  and  the  intimacy  between  the  families  had 
survived  the  tests  of  matrimony  and  maternity. 

This  aunt  was  a  pleasant,  conventional  woman  of  the 
commonplace  type.  Given  the  antecedents  of  wealth, 
good-breeding,  and  fashionable  society,  and  the  ordinary 
material  is  pretty  certain  to  turn  out  the  mould  of  Mrs. 
Ashburn.  The  lady  had  no  children  of  her  own,  and 
her  sister's  daughter  was  her  idol.  Indeed,  Mrs.  Ashburn 
was  just  fitted  to  act  the  role  of  a  doating,  most  indul- 
gent aunt. 

Margaret  Wheatley,  sole  heiress  of  the  banker's  million^ 
now  in  her  early  twenties,  was  held  in  society  a  very 


THE  HOLLANDS.  155 

irresistible  girl:  indeed,  she  was  of  the  sort  to  which 
young  men  always  apply  inflated  adjectives. 

I  never  could  bring  myself  to  call  her  beautiful,  in 
the  highest  sense  of  that  term ;  yet  I  confess  to  sitting 
for  a  half  hour  together  watching  the  girl,  and  trying  to 
analyze  the  charm  of  her  face  and  manner.  She  always 
perplexed  me.  Even  now  I  find  it  difficult  to  paint  her 
physical  and.  moral  lineaments  for  you.  Yet,  come  to 
test  her  by  anything  which  she  would  ever  accomplish 
in  the  world,  Margaret  Wheatley  was  not  remarkable. 
There  were  no  strong  forces  of  heart,  soul,  mind,  in  the 
woman. 

But  there  was  softe  subtle  personal  charm  about  her,  — 
a  charm  of  speech,  motion,  manner,  which  must  be  taken 
into  large  account.  She  was  all  glow,  grace,  life.  The 
white  skin,  with  its  clear,  wonderful  bloom;  the  blu^e, 
large  eyes ;  the  deep  gold  of  the  hair ;  the  lithe,  graceful 
figure,  made  their  own  picture. 

There  was  a  brightness,  a  piquancy  in  her  talk  and 
laughter,  which  trebled  the  effect,  and  which  seemed  as 
purely  natural  as  the  fragrance  which  a  newly-opened 
rose  pours  out  from  its  life  into  the  sunshine  of  some 
June  morning. 

How  often  I  have  watched  Margaret. Wheatley,  asking 
myself  whether  this  bright,  singular  attractiveness  of  hers 
was  a  thing  of  nature  or  of  art,  never  without  a  little  secret 
twinge  of  remorse  before  I  left  the  question ;  and  to  this 
day  I  have  never  answered  it  to  my  own  satisfaction. 
But,  at  any  rate,  it  served  its  purpose  in  the  world. 

Perhaps,  if  you  come  to  look  closely  into  the  matter, 


156  THE  HOLLANDS. 

the  long  preservation  of  the  Walbridge  and  Wheatley 
friendship  owed  itself  as  much  to  the  social  prosperity 
and  dignity  of  both  houses  as  to  anything  else.  Adver- 
sity on  either  side  would  have  been  likely  to  chill  it ;  but 
it  flourished  greenly  during  its  long  summer,  the  ladies 
seldom  visiting  the  city  without  passing  a  few  days  at  the 
elegant  up-town  mansion  of  the  banker. 

This  visit  of  Margaret  and  her  aunt,  though  long  solic- 
ited, occurred  rather  unexpectedly.  The  truth  is,  the 
father  had  taken  a  sudden  alarm  at  the  gay  life  and  late 
hours  in  which  his  daughter  was  indulging. 

The  season  was  not  half  through,  and,  looking  up  the 
splendid  vista,  the  banker  saw  a  vast%,valanche  of  -gaye- 
ties  and  fashionable  dissipations  about  to  overwhelm  his 
daughter.  That,  at  least,  was  the  way  in  which  it 
looked  in  his  ey^s,  and  the  man  resolved  on  a  sudden 
retreat. 

' '  The  child  will  be  broken  down  before  the  winter  is 
over,"  he  said  to  his  sister-in-law.  "  Get  her  out  of  all 
this." 

So  there  were  a  few  telegrams  exchanged ;  and  so  it 
came  to  pass  that  Margaret  Wheatley  came  in  midwinter 
to  the  Walbridges. 

No  girl,  unless  it  might  be  Jessamine  Holland,  in  a 
totally  different  way,  had  ever  got  on  so  well  with  Duke 
as  did  this  Margaret'  Wheatley.  She  was  not  just  .like 
other  girls  ;  she  amused  and  interested  him.  She  talked 
with  him  just  as  freely  as  she  did  with  his  sisters,  without 
any  apparent  affectation,  certainly  without  any  morbid 
self-consciousness ;  for  all  of  which  Duke  liked  her. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  157 

Then  there  was  the  old  family  friendship,  which  was  a 
tie  of  more  or  less  strength  between  them. 

Margaret,  it  is  true,  had  not  visited  at  the  Walbridges 
since  she  was  a  little  girl,  when  Duke  had  been  her 
cavalier  on  all  occasions.  They  had  hardly  met  since 
that  time,  but  there  were  old  memories  to  renew,  which 
Margaret  did,  bringing  out  their  lights  in  that  pleasant 
sparkle  of  talk,  which,  if  you  came  to  remember  it  after- 
ward, or  to  write  it  down,  would  sound  very  trifling ;  but 
then  Duke  enjoyed  it  at  the  time,  and  —  so  did  everybody 
else. 

It  was  gayer  than  ever  at  the  Walbridges.  What  a 
bright,  long  holiday  life  was,  Jessamine  thought,  with 
such  people  as  these  !  She  never  could  have  conceived 
anything  like  it  in  the  old  days  in  Hannah  Bray's  cot- 
tage. She  must  go  back  to  that^_before  long,  with  a 
little  shiver.  ' '  But  I  will  take  what  the  good  God  sends 
me  now,"  bravely,  and  wisely  putting  the  rest  behind 
her.  ' 

She  was  glad,  too,  that  Margaret  Wheatley  had  come. 
The  two  girls  got  on  remarkably  well  together,  though  I 
think  they  were  both  something  of  a  perplexity  to  the 
other,  provided  Margaret  Wheatley  ever  could  be  per- 
plexed about  anything;  and  here  again  I  am  in  the 
dark. 

A  million  of  dollars,  however,  was  something  that 
Jessamine's  thought  was  forever  tugging  at,  but  never 
grasping.  It  seemed  to  her  such  an  infinite  amount 
of  money,  that  the  wonder  was,  anybody  could  be 
comfortable  under  its  weight,  could  go  to  sleep  in  the 


158  THE  HOLLANDS. 

nights  and  rise  up  in  the  mornings,  and  sail  smoothly 
along  the  days  under  such  overwhelming  possessions  and 
responsibilities.  It  was  evident  nothing  of  that  sort 
disturbed  Margaret  Wheatley;  "but  then  she  was  nur^ 
tured  in  riches,  and  I  in  poverty,"  mused  Jessamine 
Holland;  " that  makes  the  difference  between  us." 

It  seemed  to  Jessamine,  too,  about  these  days,  that 
there  grew  up  something  fainter  than  a  shadow  betwixt 
her  and  Duke  Walbridge.  She  tried  to  shake  off  the 
impression,  would  not  admit  it  even  to  herself,  but  we 
know  how  very  faint  a  film  of  cloud  will  blur  out  some 
of  the  stars;  and  sometimes,  it  seemed* to  Jessamine 
that  she  missed  some  of  the  stars,  a  very  few,  from  her 
sky.* 

Duke's  care  and  attention  suffered  no  abatement ;  but 
was  it  fancy  that  their  talk  did  not  flow  quite  so  easily 
as  before ;  that  there  was  some  re'serve  in  his  manner  ? 
"  Of  course  it  was,"  Jessamine  said  to  herself. 

But  she  was  not  correct  here.  From  the  moment 
that  Knowledge,  awful  in  its'  power  and  meaning,  had 
shone  upon  the  soul  of  Duke  Walbridge,  some  new 
reverence  and  awe  toward  the  woman,  whom  of  all  the 
world  he  loved,  had  taken  possession  of  him.  He  could 
not  look  at  her,  treat  her  with  quite  the  old  freedom, 
when  she  was  so  sacred  and  set  apart  in  his  thought,  in 
his  heart. 

He  felt,  too,  a  new  sense  of  unworthiness  in  Jessamine's 
presence,  as  though  he  had  been  guilty  of  temerity  in 
daring  to  love  her.  Should  he  ever  take  courage  to  tell 
her  of  this  ?  his  breath  always  choking  when  he  thought 


THE  HOLLANDS.  159 

of  it,  and  so  there  was  a  certain  relief  in  turning  to  Mar- 
garet Wheatley,  and  taking  in  the  cool,  fresh  breezes  of 
her  talk,  though  all  the  time  l}uke's  ear  was  strung  to 
the  slightest  note  of  one  voice,  to  the  sound  of  one  foot- 
fall ;  he  knew  when  it  went  and  when  it  came,  and  what 
it  brought  and  carried  with  it. 

,  Meantime  other  eyes  and  ears  were  alive  to  Duke's 
intimacy  with  the  heiress  of  a  million.  The  words 
sounded  very  pleasantly  to  Mrs.  Walbridge.  She  knew 
all  they  represented  of  splendor,  influence,  power. 

"Mother,"  said  Edith,  one  day  when  the  two  ladies 
were  alone  for  a  half  hour,  "a  bright  idea  has  popped 
into  my  head." 

"Well,  dear,  what  is  it?  " 

"  If  our  Duke  now,  would  only  fall  in  love  with  Mar- 
garet, what  a  splendid  thing  it  would  be  !  —  a  million  of 
dollars  doesn't  often  come  with  a  bride's  hand;  but  it's 
locked  up  in  hers,  and  some  family  must  have  the  fortune, 
and  I  don't  see  why  we  haven't  as  good  a  right  to  it  as 
anybody  else." 

"  I  see  no  reason  why  we  have  not ;  but  Duke  is  such 
a  curious  compound  I  can  never  fancy  him  falling  in  love 
with  any  woman,  and  long  ago  I  devoted  him  to  old 
bachelordom." 

"He's  so  odd  and  obstinate,  one  wouldn't  dare  to  ap- 
proach the  matter  with  him,  just  as  one  would  with  most 
people,  I  know,"  said  Edith;  "but,  with  such  a  chance 
as  this,  it  is  a  burning  shame  to  let  it  slip,  — just  think, 
mamma,  a  million  of  dollars  !  " 

"  I  know.     Nothing  would  gratify  me  more  than  to 


160  THE  HOLLANDS. 

have  Margaret  Wheatley  for  my  daughter-in-law.  She 
is  in  all  respects  the  kind  of  wife  I  should  select  for 
Duke  ;  but  sons  do  not  often  consult  their  mothers'  tastes 
in  that  regard,  and  Duke  must  choose  for  himself.." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  not  aware  that  the  banker's  mil- 
lion gave  additional  lustre  to  the  daughter's  virtues  and 
graces. 

"  Do  you  mean,  mamma,  that  you  have  ever  suspected 
Duke  fancied  Jessamine  Holland?  " 

"I  have  never  made  up  my  mind  that  he  did ;  .although, 
if  the  relations  betwixt  them  were  not  just  what  they 
are,  I  should  long  ago  have  feared  the  result  of  their 
intimacy.  But  under  the  circumstances  I  could  not  in- 
terfere." 

"  Well,"  said  Edith,  with  a  great  deal  of  tart  decision, 
"  nothing  would  provoke  me  more  than  to  find  the  wind 
set  in  that  quarter.  If  her  brother  did  save  the  life  of 
mine,  that  is  no  reason  I  should  want  her  for  a  sister-in- 
law,  as  I  can  see." 

"  That  is  very  true,  my  dear.  I  was  strongly  annoyed 
at  Miss  Holland's  declining  the  offer  which  I  am  per- 
suaded she  received  the  other  night.  I  have  felt  some 
anxiety  lest  a  regard  for  Duke  had  something  to  do  with 
the  refusal." 

if'  She's  not  coming  into  the  family  if  I  can  prevent 
it,"  — complacently  surveying  the  small  foot  encased  in 
an  elegant  slipper.  "What  would  she  bring  to  us? 
Neither  family,  position,  wealth,  anything  that  we  natu- 
rally desire  for  our  only  son  and  brother." 

"  It  would  be  the  keenest  of  disappointments  to  me  to 


THE  HOLLANDS.  161 

have  anything  of  the  sort  happen,"  added  the  mother. 
"I  have  tried  to  think  there  was  no  reason  to  apprehend 
it." 

"  I  don't  believe  there  is,  mamma.  Duke  and  Marga- 
ret seem  to  be  getting  on  finely  together,  and  I  know  he 
is  a  great  favorite  with  her  aunt." 

"  Ellen  would  no  doubt  take  into  account  the  old  friend- 
ship, which  would  make  a  union  between  the  families 
doubly  pleasant,"  supplemented  Mrs.  Walbridge. 

"  How  proud  and  delighted  I  should  be,  mamma,  to 
have  the  thing  really  happen  !  It's  a  wonderful  chance 
for  Duke,  if  he  only  knew  it.  How  well,  too,  it  sounds  : 
'  My  brother's  wife,  the  heiress  of  the  millionnaire  !  '  I 
don't  intend  Jessamine  Holland,  that  little  country  girl, 
from  some  obscure  town  that  nobody  ever  heard  of,  shall 
frustrate  all^pur  designs  and  ambitions." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  might  sometimes  have  reproved  such 
energetic  language  as  this ;  but  she  was  now  a  good  deal 
displeased  with  Jessamine,  and  secretly  a  little  uneasy 
too. 

"  Duke's  likings  are  very  stubborn  things!  If  he 
should  take  a  fancy  to  Miss  Holland,  it  would  be  no  easy 
matter  to  manage  or  circumvent  it." 

There  was  a  look  in  Edith's  handsome  face  at  this  re- 
mark of  her  mother's,  which  would  have  startled  one 
familiar  with  it.  There  was  some  latent  power  in  the 
girl,  with  which  it  would  not  be  well  to  collide, —  a  strong 
will  not  easily  daunted,  —  a  passionate  force  which  would 
probably  never  have  much  scope  or  development  in  her 
quiet  New  England  life  and  training,  but  which  three 


162  THE  HOLLANDS. 

centuries  ago,  in  the  court  of  Catharine  de  Medici,  would 
have  offered  a  field  of  intrigue  to  her  talents,  and  made 
her  a  power  in  the  splendid  courts  and  stormy  cabals  of 
that  age,  and  perhaps  added  her  name  to  that  company 
of  beautiful,  gifted,  bad  women  whose  names  echo  down 
to  us  across  the  centuries,  alike  the  glory  and  the  misery 
of  their  time. 

"At  any  rate,  I  have  set  my  mind  on  having  our 
family  win  this  prize,  if  I  can  accomplish  it ;  and  Jessa- 
mine Holland  shall  not  stand  in  my  way." 

"  Don't  start  on  a  crusade  against  any  imaginary  foe, 
Edith.  I  am  still  inclined  to  think  that  Duke  and  Miss 
Holland  regard  each  other  only  as  friends,  and  it  is  quite 
absurd  to  waste  any  feeling  over  phantom  evils.  Then, 
too,  you  know  Miss  Holland  will  leave  us  now  in  a  few 
weeks."  f  • 

"  Yes ;  and  she  will  descend  into  the  original  obscurity 
from  which  Duke's  jumping  into  the  sea  seems  to  have 
lifted  her  for  a  time." 

"  Sh  —  sh  —  you  shock  me, ' '  replied  her  mother.  ' c  I 
never  saw  you  so  ill-natured.  That  is  not  the  way  to 
speak  of  the  sister  of  the  youth  who  saved  your  brother's 
life." 

•Mrs.  Walbridge,  to  her  honor,  was  more  energetic  in 
her  reproof,  because  she  had  a  secret  sympathy  with  her 
daughter's  feeling. 

Edith,  too,  had  the  grace  to  be  a  little  ashamed  of  her 
speech.  "I  will  own  I  was  aggravated,  mamma,  or  I 
should  not  have  expressed  myself  so  strongly ;  neverthe- 
less, Jessamine  Holland,  I'm  ready  to  help  you  to  a  hus- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  163 

band,  so  that  it  be  not  my  brother ;  for  I  have  set  my 
heart  on  Duke's  marrying  Margaret  Wheatley." 

When  her  daughter  echoed  so  fully  the  sentiments  of 
her  own  soul,  Mrs.  Walbridge  could  not  find  it  in  her 
heart  to  dissent,  and  changed  the  subject. 

Jessamine  Holland  and  Margaret  Wheatley  took,  as  I 
said,  a  fancy  to  each  other,  and  the  former  was  always 
content  to  sit  still  and  listen  to  the  playful  sallies  which 
frequently  ran  high  betwixt  Duke  and  his  guest. 

Jessamine  enjoyed  their  talk  Over  the  old  childish  days 
when  they  were  little  boy  and  girl  together,  and  Marga- 
ret had  made  her  first  visit  at  the  Walbridges.  She 
would  sometimes  contrast  her  life  at  that  time  with  that 
of  these  people.  It  was  only  a  little  while  ago,  —  her 
memory  slipping  down  the  years  softly  as  boats  slip  from 
the  wide  harbor  down  to  the  great  sea.  The  price  of 
one.  of  Margaret  Wheatley's  dresses  would  have  made 
her  household  rich  as  princesses  in  that  old  time  when 
the 'dreadful  problem  to  be  solved  day  by  day  was,  how 
to  keep  soul  and  body  together,  and  a  shelter  over  their 
heads. 

It  made  her  feel  sadly,  sometimes,  to  think  she  had  no 
merry  childhood  to  talk  about  as  other  people  had ;  every 
scene  was  enveloped  in  that  dark  atmosphere  of  poverty, 
of  which  Margaret  Wheatley  had  no  more  idea  than  the 
birds  whom  God  feeds,  or  the  French  princess  who  said, 
"The  people  starving  for  bread?  Why  don't  they  eat 
cake  then?" 

Duke  Walbridge  seemed  all  this  time  in  wonderfully 
high  spirits.  The  truth  was,  there  was  some  new  life 


164  THE  HOLLANDS. 

entering  his  soul,  which  quickened  all  his  faculties  ;  and 
there  was  a  certain  pleasure  and  relief  in  jesting  with 
Margaret  Wheatley;  his  thoughts  going  sometimes  to 
himself:  — 

"You 'are  bright,  and  pretty,  and  piquant,  old  play- 
fellow, and  I  like  you;  and  it's  a  wonder  that  they 
haven't  spoiled  you  utterly,  betwixt  all  the  praise,  and 
pleasure,  and  prosperity ;  but  I  have  my  doubts  whether 
one  would  find  much  heart,  brave,  and  strong,  and  ten- 
der, under  all  the  charm"  and  the  brightness. 

1  i  Ah !  my  one  lily,  with  whom  all  women  cannot 
compare,  you  sit  quiet  to-night,  and  the  stillness  is  upon 
your  face,  which  tells  me  your  thoughts  are  touching 
close  upon  pain  ;  they  have  gone  down  into  your  lonely 
childhood,  or  far  off  to  Ross.  Your  thoughts  do  not 
come  to  me,  and  mine  do  not  reach  your  heart ;  but  for 
all  that,  Jessamine,  your  influence  is  all  about  me,  tender, 
and  sacred,  and  exalting.  You  are  the  woman  to 
strengthen,  purify,  redeem,  my  manhood.  You  inspire 
me  with  a  new  life  that  is  better  than  the  old,  with  its 
dreams  and  disgusts,  its  weakness  and  incoherence.  You 
are  the  angel  passing  by  the  gates,  and  the  air  is  full  of 
myrrh  and  spikenard.  0  Jessamine,  if  I  should  unlock 
the  doors  and  call,  would  you  come  in?  God  alone 
knows ;  but  he  has  sent  me  the  vision ;  and  I  am  stronger 
and  better  for  beholding  you  whether  he  gives  you  to  me 
or  to  another." 

You  would  not  have  guessed  these  thoughts  were 
thronging  in  Duke's  soul,  hearing  the  badinage  that  was 
going  on  betwixt  him  and  Margaret  Wheatley. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  165 

Suddenly.  Mr.  "Walbridge's  rather  sonorous  voice  lift- 
ed itself  above  the  hum  in  the  drawing-room.  "This 
has  been  a  hard  winter  for  the  poor,"  he  said.  "  Manu- 
factories closed  —  don't  pay  to  keep  them  running. 
Thousands  of  men  and  woman  in  our  great  cities  turned 
out  of  employment !  " 

Mr.  Waibridge  was  not  a  great  talker ;  but  his  speeches 
were  always  to  the  point,  and  had  that  practical  quality 
which  showed  itself  in  everything  the  man  said  and  did. 
The  family  always  listened  with  great  respect  when 
"pa"  spoke,  all  his  opinions  being  held  in  high  estima- 
tion by  his  household. 

Margaret  Wheatley  and  Jessamine  Holland  listened 
too.  One  could  hardly  have  imagined  a  greater  contrast 
than  there  was  between  those  two  girls,  with  not  a  birth- 
day between  them ;  the  one,  with  the  brightness,  color, 
glow ;  the  other,  with  the  quiet,  strong,  delicate  face. 

Margaret  really  felt  as  little  personal  interest  in  the 
subjects  of  Mr.  Walbridge's  remark  as  she  would  in  a 
hive  of  bees  or  a  flock  of  sheep.  Not  that  she  was 
really  hard-hearted.  She  gave  away  all  her  dresses  and 
finery,  as  soon  as  she  wearied  of  them,  to  cooks  and 
serving-maids,  and  really  thought  it  was  too  bad  to  throw 
them  in  the  fire,  as  one  of  her  intimate  friends  did,  "  be- 
cause serving-people  should  not  wear  the  clothes  of  their 
superiors."  But  poverty  she  always  associated  with 
rags,  ignorance,  and  vice,  and  it  had  never  entered  the 
soul  of  the  rich  banker's  daughter  that  there  was  any 
tie  of  human  kindred  betwixt  her  and  "that  class  of 
people. " 


166  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Jessamine  had  listened  too.  Those  words,  "out  of 
work,"  always  hurt  her.  She  knew  what  awful  depths 
of  struggle,  pain,  hunger,  cold,  —  what  dreadful  shifts  of 
denial  and  poverty  were  in  them. 

She  turned  now  to  Margaret  Wheatley,  speaking  out 
of  the  fulness  of  her  heart :  ' '  What  do  you  suppose 
will  become  of  those  people?  " 

And  Duke,  sitting  by,  heard  the  question  :  waited  for 
the  answer. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure  ;  but  they  will  get  along  as 
they  always  have  done.  There  are  the  benevolent  socie- 
ties and  the  soup-houses,  you  know." 

' '  Those  will  do  their  part ;  but  there  is  a  class  whom 
these  can  never  reach.  I  mean  those  to  whose  pride  and 
sensitiveness  charity  is  bitter' as  death." 

"Oh,  my  dear  Miss  Holland,  those  interesting,  unfor- 
tunate people  are  never  found  out  of  books.  Plenty  of 
people  who  are  in  the  habit  of  dispensing  charities  as- 
sure me  they  never  came  across  one  of  those  fine  speci- 
mens of  poverty ;  that  the  real  ones  are  always  coarse, 
stolid,  ignorant ;  the  other  sort  are  only  author's  ideali- 
zations ;  but  they  do  make  a  story  delightful." 

Jessamine  looked  at  the  girl  in  a  kind  of  a  mournful 
amazement.  Could  anybody  live  in  God's  world,  ajnd 
hold  such  a  faith  as  that  ? 

Still,  it  was  all,  no  doubt,  Margaret  Wheatley's  edu- 
cation. .Jessamine  did  not  easily  believe  evil  of  anyone; 
and  the  banker's  daughter  had  been  singularly  cordial  to 
her  from  the  beginning. 

"I  think,"  she  said,    "one  might  dispense  charities 


THE  HOLLANDS.  167 

through  a  whole  lifetime,  and-  never  meet  with  one  of 
those  cases  of  what  you  call  '  interesting  poverty ; '  but 
for  all  that  they  are  in  the  world  as  well  as  in  story- 
books ;  though  they  will  not  be  likely  to  haunt  soup- 
houses  or  benevolent  societies." 

"I  wish  some  of  them  would;  I  should  be  so  very 
glad  to  assist  such  people  out  of  their  troubles ;  ' '  not 
dreaming  she  was  addressing  one,  who,  without  any  great 
elasticity  of  imagination,  might  even  now  be  included  in 
the  class  of  whom  she  spoke. 

Jessamine  made  one  more  effort.  "  It  is  pitiful,  too," 
she  said,  "  to  think  of  the  young  girls  employed  in  those 
great  cities,  wearing  away  their  youth  and  hope,  their 
very  lives,  in  toiling  early  and  late  for  a  mere  pittance, 
just  enough  to  give  them  food,  and  a  bit  of  dreary  back 
attic  for  a  shelter.  I  think  of  them  in  stores,  and  shops, 
and  factories,  shivering  through  the  early  dawns  to  their 
long  days'  toil ;  I  think  of  them  going  to  their  comfort- 
less- homes,  weary  and  faint,  at  night;  and  they  are 
women  with  souls  and  hearts  like  yours  and  mine,  Miss 
Wheatley." 

The  young  lady  moved  a  little  uneasily.  Nobody  had 
ever  talked  to  her  in  just  that  way  before.  She  thought 
Miss  Holland  a  little  singular ;  "  but,  then,  poor  thing, 
she  had  never  been  in  New  York." 

"  Of  course  those  things  are  very  bad,"  she  answered, 
feeling  that  she  must  say  something.  "  But  those  people 
are  used  to  it,  and  it  doesn't  seem  to  them  at  all  as  it  does 
to  us." 

Jessamine  smothered  a  sigh.     She  thought  she  could 


168       .  THE  HOLLANDS. 

understand:  now  how  very  gracious  and  beautiful  women, 
of  whom  she  had  read,  queens  and  princesses,  with  vast 
wealth  and  power,  had  no  pity  for  the  people,  because 
they  could  not  understand  them. 

Duke  Walbridge  had  listened  to  the  taljc  too,  and  had 
his  own  thoughts  about  it,  which  would  have  greatly 
amazed  everybody  else. 

Mrs.  Ashburn,  Margaret's  aunt,  happened  to  overhear 
the  conversation  also.  That  it  made  some  impression 
on  her  was  proved  by  her  remarking,  the  next  day, 
to  Mrs.  Walbridge,  when  Jessamine  happened  to  be 
away,  "Isn't  your  young  friend  a  little  singular,  Hes- 
ter?" 

"  I  think  she  is,  Ellen.  The  fact  struck  me  the  first 
time  I  saw  her,  and  the  impression  has  always  continued ; 
but  then  the  circumstances  did  not  admit  of  our  being 
critical,  a^s  we  might  be  in  the  case  of  most  young 
ladies." 

"  Of  course  not,"  answered  the  lady.  She  had  heard 
the  story  of  Jessamine's  introduction  into  the  Walbridge 
family.' 

Mrs.  Ashburn  was  a  pretty  woman,  with  very  lady- 
like manners,  and  a  face  which  still  looked  youthful  under 
its  becoming  lace  and  flowers. 

'"I  think,  mamma,  Miss  Holland  is  really  pious," 
said  Eva,  who  had  an  instinctive  feeling  that  "  singular  " 
was  not  an  adjective  Mrs.  Walbridge  would  regard  as 
complimentary  applied  to  her  own  daughters,  or  Mrs. 
Ashburn  to  her  niece. 

"I  hope  we  all  are  that,   my  daughter,"   answered 


THE  HOLLANDS.  169 

Mrs.  Walbridge,   with  a  rather  amused  but  benignant 
smile. 

"  Oh,  but,  mamma,  I  don't  mean  pious  in  the  way  you 
do ;  but  really  so,  away  down  in  her  heart ;  not  nice, 
respectable  piety,  but  the  sort  that  makes  one  conscien- 
tious in  word  and  act,  —  that  makes  one  pitiful  and  tender 
to  all  who  are  in  suffering,  and  that  would  dare  sbme- 
thing  and  sacrifice  something  for  what  was  right  and 
true." 

Eva  had  gone  on  in  her  earnestness,  not  considering 
whom  her  words  were  hitting. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  as  she  paused,  and 
then  Gertrude  said,  half  satirically,  half  reproachfully, 
"  Why.  Eva,  do  you  mean  mamma's  piety  is  not  of  the 
right  kind?" 

•'  Oh,  no,  indeed  !  I  wouldn't  of  course  say  that ;  only 
it  is  not  of  the  same  kind  as  Miss  Holland's ;  that  is  — 
I  mean  —  I  mean  — 

Poor  Eva !  she  began  to  see  the  conclusions  toward 
which  she  was  stumbling,  and  could  not  find  her  way 
out. 

"You  mean,  Eva,"  said  her  mother,  "that  young 
girls,  when  they  talk  too  much,  are  apt  to  get  themselves 
into  deep  waters." 

"  But,  mamma,"  still  feeling  that  she  owed  her  mother 
an  apology,  "I  did  not  mean  to  say  anything  against 
your  sort  of  piety." 

It  was  said  so  earnestly  that,  taken  together  with  the 
words,  there  was  a  general  laugh,  in  which  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge  could  not  help  joining,  though  Eva's  speech  had 

15 


170  THE  HOLLANDS. 

been  far  from  pleasing  to  the  mother.  It  seemed  to  the 
lady  that  her  self-complacency  had  a  good  many  shocks 
of  late,  and  in  one  way  and  another  she  associated  them 
with  Jessamine  Holland,  innocent  as  the  girl  was  of  any 
connivance  in  the  matter.  But  Eva's  speech  did  not 
increase  Mrs.  Walbridge's  regard  for  her  young  guest ; 
and,  although  the  lady  would  not  admit  it  to  herself,  she 
had  a  little  secret  feeling  that  perhaps  Eva  had  stumbled 
on  a  truth.  All  this  time  you  must  fancy  to  yourself  the 
liveliest  of  households,  some  new  excitement  going  on 
all  the  time :  parties  and  drives,  dinners  and  suppers,  for 
the  advent  of  the  New  York  guests  had  brought  a  new 
element  of  gayety  into  the  household ;  and  amid  all  this 
swift  flying  of  weeks,  the  winter,  began  to  turn  its  face 
toward  the  spring,  the  days  lengthened,  and  Jessamine 
Holland  told  herself  it  was  time  to  begin  to  think  of  turn- 
ing toward  the  russet  cottage  whose  front  faced  the  hills. 
How  she  could  take  up  the  old  dreariness  of  that  life 
again  Jessamine  could  not  conceive,  contrasting  it  with 
the  present,  so  smooth  and  fair,  despite  a  few  drawbacks 
which  Jessamine  tried  to  put  in  the  background,  gather- 
ing the  honey  from  her  little  flower  of  life  while  it  was 
yet  summer  time. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  171 


CHAPTER   XII. 

ONE  day,  at  a  little  lunch-party  given  by  the  Wai- 
bridges,  who  were  fond  of  improvising  things  of  this  sort, 
Jessamine  met  a  new  guest.  It  had  cost  the  Walbridges 
a  little  struggle  to  invite  her,  the  former  was  well  aware ; 
but  the  lady  held  a  golden  key,  which  proved  equal  to 
unlocking  the  awful  front  door  between  the  carved  lions. 

Jessamine  had  heard  the  lady's  name  frequently  this 
winter,  her  antecedents  having  been  fully  discussed  in 
the  Walbridge  circle ;  and  the  gossip  floating  in  Jessa- 
mine's way,  there  had  grown  around  it  a  half-curious, 
half-pitiful  feeling  for  its  subject.  Mrs.  Kent  was  young, 
and  extremely  pretty.  She  owed  to  that  last  fact  her 
prosperity  and  social  elevation. 

She  was  not  coarse,  as  some  people  tried  to  intimate,  — 
a  graceful  figure;  a  fair,  girlish  face,  full  of  fresh  bloom; 
eyes  like  the  sky  in  some  sunny  May  day  that  hangs  close 
upon  June,-  and  soft,  golden  hair  about  it,  —  it  was  a 
face  which  vaguely  reminded  one  of  the  last  queen  of  the 
house  of  Valois. 

Mrs.  Kent  was  the  wife  of  a  man  richer,  report  said, 
even  than  the  Walbridges.  Three  years  before,  she  had 
been  a  factory  girl  in  an  adjoining  village,  and  her  bus- 


172  THE  HOLLANDS. 

band  was  a  man  at  least  twenty-five  years  her  senior,  a 
shrewd,  good-natured,  portly  man,  with  a  wonderful  gift 
for  turning  everything  he  touched  to  gold.  He  had  risen 
from  poverty  and  obscurity  by  dint  of  this  faculty ;  he 
had  been  all  over  the  world,  engaged  in  varieties  of  busi- 
ness, which  had  been  uniformly  successful. 

Mr.  Kent  saw  the  girl  as  she  came  by  chance  into  the 
counting-room  of  the  foreman  of  the  factory,  with  whom 
the  former  happened  to  be  conversing  in  the  absence  of 
the  owner,  whom  he  had  called  to  see.  The  young  girl 
was  a  little  excited,  and  the  blue  eyes,  and  the  fair 
cheeks,  and  the  golden  hair  dawned  like  a  vision  of  al- 
most unearthly  loveliness  on  the  gaze  of  Richard  Kent. 

He  was  not  a  man  of  much  sentiment ;  but,  to  use  his 
own  words,  "  he  could  tell  a  pretty  woman  whenever  he 
saw  her;"  and  of  late  the  man  who  had  tumbled  all 
around  the  world,  intent  only  on  making  his  fortune,  but 
with  a  certain  good-nature  at  the  bottom,  whose  salt  had 
saved  him  from  turning  into  a  mere  grasping  miser,  with 
no  love  but  gold,  no  thought  but  gain,  —  of  late  this  man 
had  begun  to  wonder  in  a  vague  sor(t  of  fashion  whether, 
after  all,  it  would  not  pay  better  to  anchor  himself  down 
somewhere  in  a  pleasant  home,  with  a  pretty  little  wife, 
and  enjoy  in  a  new  fashion  some  of  the  money  which  he 
had  been  tumbling  over  the  world  all  his  life»to  win. 

The  face  of  the  little  factory  girl,  with  its  sunny 
brightness,  shone  upon  him  at  just  the  right  time  ;  that 
visit  to  the  counting-office  settled  her  future. 

The  girl  was  a  favorite  with  the  foreman,  for  her  pretty 
face  and  her  bright,  modest  ways,  and  when  he  found  the 


THE  HOLLANDS.  1Y3 

rich  gentleman  staring  at  her.  he  good-naturedly  intro- 
duced the  two,  and  there  were  some  very  becoming  blushes 
on  one  side,  and  some  rather  clumsy  attempts  at  conversa- 
tion on  the  other. 

But  the  matter  did  not  end  there.  The  bright  eyes 
and  the  pretty  bloom  haunted  the  dreams  of  Richard 
Kent  as  persistently  as  though  he  had  just  scaled  the 
high  wall  of  his  early  twenties,  and  supplanted  the  bar- 
gains on  which  his  thoughts  had  successfully  revolved 
for  so  many  years. 

The  result  was,  that,  one  evening  at  the  close  of  the 
working  hours,  the  gentleman  appeared  at  the  door,  and, 
jo  her  infinite  amazement,  walked  home  with  the  young 
factory  girl. 

The  acquaintance  progressed  swimmingly  after  that. 

The  factory  girl  was  an  orphan,  lonely,  homeless,  and 
with  only  distant  kin  in  the  world.  She  had  been 
brought  up  in  a  back  country  town,  with  her  widest 
knowledge  of  life  gathered  during  the  year  in  which  she 
had  been  employed  in  light  work  at  the  factory ;  her 
keenest  interest  had  been  to  save  money  enough  from  her 
board  to  indulge  in  an  occasional  cheap  dress,  and  bright 
flower  or  ribbon  to  set  off  the  pretty  face. 

All  this  appealed  to  some  chivalry  and  tenderness  far 
down  in  the  blunt,  good-natured  soul  of  the  man  whose 
life  was  settling  toward  its  fifties. 

Richard  Kent  was  a  shrewd  man,  and,  though  he  had  a 
homely  bronzed  face,  and  his  thick,  dark  hair  and  beard 
was  all  overshot  with  gray,  he  succeeded  very  soon  in 
making  himself  look  handsome  in  the  eyes  of  the  factory 


174  THE  HOLLANDS. 

girL  In  a  courtship  of  this  sort,  there  were  no  long, 
conventional  preliminaries  to  go  through  with. 

The  man  told  the  girl  one  day,  in  his  blunt,  straight- 
forward fashion,  that  he  wanted  her  for  his  wife,  and 
though  he  was  not  a  young,  dapper  lover,  he  had  a  good, 
strong,  honest  heart  that  was  ready  to  take  her  right  into 
it,  and  make  her  as  happy  as  a  faithful,  manly  love  ever 
could  make  woman,  provided  she  could  take  him  on  trust, 
without  any  of  the  fine  speeches  which  they  said  were  the 
things  that  always  won  quickest  the  ear  and  heart  of  a 
woman. 

The  factory  girl  listened  in  a  confusion  of  amazement, 
delight,  bashfulness,  that  made  her  look  prettier  than 
ever.  She  glanced  at  the  broad,  stalwart  figure  by  her 
side.  Then  the  true  woman  in  her  woke  up  for  the  first 
time.  She  placed  her  hands  in  the  strong,  large  ones, 
the  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  she  said,  with  a  sudden 
seriousness  and  dignity  altogether  new  to  the  factory 
girl,  "I'm  very  ignorant;  I've  never  had  any  chances 
to  make  anything  of  myself;  but  if  you're  willing  to  take 
me  as  I  am,  I'll  try  very  hard  to  be  a  good  wife  to  you." 

There  was  better  promise  for  the  womanhood  to  come, 
in  the  simple  pathos  of  that  answer,  than  there  would 
have  been  in  the  one  which  many  a  fine  lady  might  have 
had  ready  to  the  suit  of  the  rich  man,  and  he  knew  it. 
In  less  than  a  month  they  were  married.  The  sudden 
transition  would  have  tested  the  grain  of  any  nature,  and 
it  was  not  strange  that  the  factory  girl's  head  was  a  good 
deal  turned  by  the  unaccustomed  splendor.  She  was 
vain  and  foolish  sometimes,  dizzy  and  dazzled  at  the  sud- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  175 

den  height  to  which  she  had  mounted.  But  she  kept  her 
husband's  love  and  respect  through  it  all,  which  was  cer- 
tainly to  her  credit,  for  he  had  a  native  shrewdness  at 
the  bottom  which  was  not  easily  deceived  in  its  estimate 
of  people. 

Richard  Kent  lavished  diamonds  and  handsome  dresses 
on  his  bride,  and  she  had  good  taste,  which  had  showed 
itself  in  the  old  days  of  her  factory  adornings,  and  which 
kept  her  from  any  gorgeous  displays  of  toilet,  in  the 
midst  of  all  the  sore  temptations  which  her  husband's 
loose  purse-strings  afforded  her.  Richard  Kent's  .  boy- 
hood had  been  passed  near  the  town  where  the  Wai- 
bridges  resided,  and  as  he  had  certain  agreeable  associa- 
tions with  the  vicinity,  he  purchased  a  delightful  site 
outside  of  the  town,  and  here,  in  the  midst  of  pleasant 
grounds,  he  built  himself  a  spacious  home,  and  settled 
down  to  enjoy  his  wealth  with  the  young  wife,  of  whom 
he  grew  every  day  fonder  and  prouder. 

Here,  in  a  little  while,  a  baby  came  to  steady  the 
mother's  heart  and  brain.  Nature,  at  any  rate,  had 
dealt  kindly  by  Mrs.  Kent,  and  beneath  the  pretty  face 
there  were  thought  and  feeling,  which  would  assert  them- 
selves when  her  eyes  should  grow  a  little  accustomed  to 
the  new  dazzle  of  her  position. 

She  had  been  learning  many  things  since  she  left  the 
factory,  too,  and  among  these  were  a  very  stinging,  but 
perhaps  not  unwholesome,  sense  of  her  deficiencies. 
These  were,  in  truth,  deplorable ;  the  backwoods'  school 
having  inducted  her  into  a  little  reading  and  spelling, 
and  left  her  there  before  her  tenth  birthday.  Mrs.  Kent 


176  THE  HOLLANDS. 

grew  slowly  awake  to  the  fact,  that  she  sometimes  made 
mistakes  in  conversation,  and  mispronounced  words, 
which  the  gracious  ladies  who  invited  her  to  their  parties 
waxed  merry  over  when  her  back  was  turned.  This 
knowledge  galled  Mrs.  Kent  to  the  quick.  She  was 
angry  over  it,  and  humiliated,  too,  and  the  poor  young 
thing,  in  the  midst  of  her  elegance,  had  no  friend  to 
advise  her,  and  she  shrank  from  telling  her  husband  the 
trouble  over  which  she  brooded,  and  it  was  one  which 
the  kind,  blunt  nature  of  the  man  would  hardly  under- 
stand. 

"  If  she  could  only  sing  and  play,"  Mrs.  Kent 
thought,  pondering  the  matter ;  but  she  had  no  gift 
there,  and,  if  she  told  the  unvarnished  truth,  she  had 
enjoyed  the  opera  quite  as  much  for  its  display  of  fine 
dresses  as  she  did  for  the  music. 

That  there  were  some  forces  in  her  of  energy  and 
resolution,  Mrs.  Kent  proved  by  setting  herself  to  study ; 
but  it  was  very  slow  work  with  no  teachers  of  any  sort. 

Meanwhile  the  lady's  tact  and  observation  preserved 
her  from  many  egregious  errors,  but  sometimes,  despite 
her  care,  they  would  slip  out ;  and  as  her  wealth  made 
Mrs.  Kent  conspicuous,  it  became  fashionable  to  criticise 
her  in  a  small  way,  and  there  were  people  mean  enough 
to  indemnify  themselves  for  admitting  her  into  their 
society  by  repeating  her  mistakes.  At  any  rate,  Jessa- 
mine Holland  thought  no  fault  could  be  found  with  Mrs. 
Kent's  deportment,  whatever  were  the  defects  of  her 
education.  She  was  as  thoroughly  ladylike  in  presence 
and  bearing  as  any  of  the  young  ladies  in  the  company. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  177 

During  the  talk  somebody  ambitiously  quoted  a  pas- 
sage from  Dante's  "  Inferno1;  "  and  another  lady,  quite 
innocent  of  Mrs.  Kent's  antecedents,  turned  to  her,  say- 
ing, playfully,  "  No  doubt  that  is  all  very  fine;  but  I 
must  have  Dante  turned  into  a  mould  of  Anglo  Saxon,  or 
else  he  is  all  Greek  to  me." 

Mrs.  Kent  was  a  little  nervous.  She  must  make  some 
reply,  and  fancying  that  the  lady's  remark  had  given  her 
the  clew,  and  that  she  was  sure  of  her  ground  this  time, 
she  answered,  ' i  I  am  no  wiser  than  yourself.  I  never 
read  your  poet.  I  only  know  he  was  one  of  the  old 
Greek  authors." 

The  next  moment  Mrs.  Kent  became  conscious  that 
she  had  made  a  tremendous  blunder.  The  ladies  around 
her  plumed  themselves  on  their  good-breeding,  but,  for  all 
that,  there  was  a  stir,  a  significant  lifting  of  eyebrows, 
an  amused  smile  about  the  circle,  and  the  poor  little  lady 
felt  stung  and  humiliated  to  the  quick. 

'Jessamine  sat  near  her.  She  saw,  with  a  sudden  flush 
of  indignation,  the  smile  of  the  ladies.  She  knew  how 
shallow  was  the  cultivation  of  most  of  the  elegant  women 
before  her ;  -a  little  music,  a  smattering  of  French,  a  few 
of  the  surface  accomplishments  which  pass  current  in 
fashionable  circles,  and  your  line  had  struck  the  bottom 
of  these  women's  culture.  What  right  had  they  to  self- 
complacency  or  scorn  over  the  factory  girl,  who  had  im- 
proved her  small  opportunities  far  more  wisely  than 
they? 

Jessamine  Holland  had  a  courage  that,  when  roused, 
would  have  made  her  dauntless  in  the  presence-chamber 


178  THE  HOLLANDS. 

of  kings.  Her  eyes,  in  a  blaze  of  indignation,  went 
around  the  circle,  and  then  she  turned,  with  her  clear 
voice  and  her  quiet  grace,  to  the  lady  :  "  Mrs.  Kent,  I 
think  you  did  not  hear  the  name.  We  were  speaking  of 
Dante,  not  of  a  Greek  author,"  she  said. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon;  I  did  not  understand,"  replied 
Mrs.  Kent,  and  there  was  a  sudden  flash  of  gratitude  in 
the  blue  eyes  that  looked  up  at  Jessamine. 

After  that,  of  course  there  was  no  more  to  be  said ; 
and  although  each  lady  present  understood,  as  before, 
the  fact  of  Mrs.  Kent's  ignorance,  each  one  felt,  too,  a 
secret  uneasiness.  The  courtesy  which  had  not  presumed 
on  the  ignorance  of  a  guest,  and  which  had  so  gracefully 
turned  it  into  a  misapprehension  of  the  right  name,  was 
something  finer  and  higher  than  anything  to  which  Jes- 
samine's hearers  had  attained.  But  the  lesson  was  not 
without  its  service ;  for  Mrs.  Kent's  setting  Dante  among 
the  old  Greek  poets  was  never  alluded  to  again,  as  it 
would  have  been  with  plenty  of  contemptuous  laughter 
and  pity,  if  Jessamine  had  not  come  to  the  rescue. 

"That  first  sentence  was  not  just  the  truth,"  said 
Jessamine's  conscience  a  little  later.  She  had  not 
thought  of  that  at  the  moment. 

Several  times,  so  many  indeed  that  Jessamine  was 
quite  ashamed  of  herself,  her  eyes  met  Mrs.  Kent's. 
"  How  singularly  pretty  and  attractive  she  is  !  The  only 
wonder,,  that  with  her  antecedents  she  carries  herself  so 
well.  Poor  thing  !  Even  wealth  does  not  bring  all  one 
wants ;  and  she  must  be  in  perpetual  fear  of  mortifica- 
tion, from  women  whom  her  husband's  wealth  has  forced 


THE  HOLLANDS.  179 

to  acknowledge  her.  How  that  smile  of  theirs  stung  me, 
as  though  it  had  been  a  personal  insult!  "  went  Jessa- 
mine's thoughts. 

Mrs.  Kent  was  perfectly  aware  how  Jessamine  had 
flung  herself  into  the  breach,  in  hearty  defence  of  a 
stranger.  It  stirred  all  that  was  grateful  and  generous  in 
the  little  woman's  nature.  A  few  commonplace  remarks 
only  were  interchanged  before  the  company  separated. 
When  Mrs.  Kent  had  made  her  adieux  to  her  hostess,  she 
approached  Jessamine,  and  said,  with  a  pretty  kind  of 
eagerness,  "  Miss  Holland,  I  am  strongly  desirous  of 
knowing  more  of  you." 

Frankness  of  this  sort  would  be  sure  of  being  met 
half  way  by  Jessamine  Holland ;  and  she  replied,  play- 
fully, ' '  Your  desire  granted,  my  dear  Mrs.  Kent,  might 
produce  quite  the  opposite  effect." 

"You  will  allow  me  to  be  the  judge  of  that,"  an- 
swered the  lady ;  and  then  she  added  an  urgent  entreaty 
that  Jessamine  would  give  her  the  pleasure  of  an  inter- 
view at  her  own  house.  She  would  send  the  carriage  at 
any^  hour  Miss  Holland  would  appoint. 

With  a  crowd  of  engagements  which  occupied  the  days 
and  evenings,  Jessamine  found  it  difficult  to  command 
two  or  three  hours  outside  of  the  family.  Time  was  so 
absorbed  by  this  butterfly  existence,  whose  only  aim  was 
a  vivid,  aesthetic  enjoyment  of  life.  Was  it  very  much 
better  than  the  butterfly's  that  flashed  through  the  golden 
summer  air  the  purple  beauty  of  its  wings,  and  gladdened 
the  eyes  which  saw  it  hovering  among  the  flowers  ? 

But  Mrs.  Kent  was  so  thoroughly  in  earnest  that  Jes- 


180  THE  HOLLANDS. 

samine  appointed  a  time  for  the  visit,  a  couple  of  days 
later.  Her  going  might  be  unceremonious ;  and  the 
Walbridges  might  have  their  opinions  about  it,  she  re- 
flected ;  but  for  all  that  she  would  go. 

The  Rents  lived  several  miles  out  of  town.  However 
people  might  criticise  them  in  some  ways,  they  could  but 
admit  that  the  owner  had  displayed  good  taste  in  the  site 
he  had  chosen,  and  the  home  he  had  reared  on  it.  -It 
was  quiet,  substantial,  elegant,  and  Jessamine  sighed  a 
little  to  herself  as  she  mounted  the  stone  steps,  and  won- 
dered whether  she  should  ever  have  a  home  too,  —  a  real 
home,  with  nothing  so  grand  as  this,  but  a  bit  of  a  cot- 
tage, with  half-a-dozen  rooms,  and  balconies,  —  a  cottage 
among  green  hills,  half  smothered  in  vines. 

I  suppose  we  all  have  some  time  our  horizon  outside 
of  the  real  daily  world  in  which  we  live.  This  one  of 
the  cottage  was  Jessamine's. 

Inside,  too,  amid  the  general  elegance,  there  was  little 
to  find  fault  with.  The  colors  were  rather  too  fresh  and 
bright  to  suit  people  of  quiet  tastes,  but  nothing  vulgar. 

Mrs.  Kent's  greeting  was  more  like  that  of  an^old 
friend  than  an  acquaintance  whose  knowledge  of  her 
guest  was  confined  to  a  single  interview.  The  lady  had 
secured  herself  from  interruptions  this  morning,  and  it 
was  surprising  how  much  the  young  matron  and  the 
young  maiden  found  to  say  to  each  other. 

Jessamine  felt  as  though  she  was  breathing  a  draught 
of  her  native  country  air ;  and  it  was  'very  pleasant,  for 
the  Walbridge  ceremonies  sometimes  grew  a  little  irk- 
some. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  181 

Mrs.  Kent  took  her  guest  at  last  into  a  small  cosey 
side-ropm  that  opened  out  of  the  parlor. 

"  We  can  talk  better,  and  I  always  feel  more  at  home 
than  I  do  in  those  great  parlors." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Jessamine.  "  How  nice  this  is  !  "  —  a 
pleasant  home-feeling  coming  over  her  as  she  settled  her- 
self down  in  one  of  the  low  easy-chairs. 

Mrs.  Kent  looked  at  her  guest  a  moment  with  some 
thought  that  flushed  her  face  and  widened  the  blue  eyes ; 
then  she  spoke  :  ' '  You  were  very  kind  to  me  yesterday, 
Miss  Holland.  I  could  not  thank  you  before  all  those 
people ;  but  I  shall  never  forget  it  of  you  —  never  —  so 
long  as  I  live." 

"  0  Mrs.  Kent,  it  is  all  not  worth  speaking  of." 

The  lady's  lip  quivered.  "  Ah,  but  it  was  the  way  — 
the  brave,  generous  way  —  in  which  you  sprang  to  my 
defence.  You  did  not  join  in  the  smile,  nor  the  look 
which  I  saw  went  around  the  circle." 

"  It  was  a  shame  —  a  disgrace  to  them  !  "  burst  out 
Jessamine,  hotly  indignant ;  "  and  they  pride  themselves 
on  their  good-breeding  !  " 

Mrs.  Kent  drew  a  little  nearer,  again ;  and,  seeing  her 
face,  Jessamine  thought,  "  There  is  something  in  this 
woman  beyond  what  her  husband's  money  has  put  there." 

"I  know  what  their  friendship  is  really  worth,"  she 
said.  "I  know  it's  the  elegant  home,  and  the  money, 
and  all  those  things  that  have  compelled  them  to  receive 
me  amongst  them.  I  take  their  courtesies  for  just  what 
they  are  worth  ;  but  with  you  it  is  different.  I  said  to 
myself  yesterday,  '  If  I  was  only  the  poor,  friendless 


182  THE  HOLLANDS. 

factory  girl  I  was  two  years  ago,  she  would  be  just  as 
careful  not  to  hurt  me ;  my  feelings  would  be  just  as 
sacred  in  her  sight  as  they  are  now,  —  now  I'm  the  wife  of 
a  rich  man.' ' 

"I  should  be  a  miserable  wretch  if  they  wouldn't," 
answered  Jessamine,  with  hot  cheeks. 

"  Ah,  yes;  but  the  fine  ladies  in  your  set,  Miss  Hol- 
land, don't  look  at  it  that  way ;  and  though  I  feel  that 
in  one  sense,  at  least,  I'm  above  them,  yet  their  contempt 
for  my  ignorance  hurts,  humiliates  me.  But  I  never  had 
any  kind  of  a  chance,  you  see, ' '  —  the  lips  quivering  again. 

Jessamine  was  so  strongly  stirred  that  she  could  not 
say  one  word.  She  leaned  over  and  touched  Mrs.  Kent's 
hand,  —  a  slight  movement ;  but  Jessamine  had,  from  her 
childhood,  her  own  way  of  doing  these  small  things 
when  her  heart  went  in  them.  Hannah  Bray  could  tell 
you  about  that. 

The  lady  went  on  :  "  I've  been  thinking  a  great  deal 
about  the  matter  of  late.  If  I  could  only  set  to  work 
and  improve  myself,  make  up  for  the  lost  time  ;  but  I  am 
so  utterly  ignorant,  and  it  seems  so  hopeless,  and  I  don't 
know  where  to  begin.  It  is  very  easy  to  tell  you  all 
this.  I  felt  that  it  would  be  from  the  moment  when  I 
saw  your  kind,  pitying  eyes  looking  at  me  yesterday." 

Jessamine  began  to  feel  that  her  own  poverty  had  not 
been  of  the  worse  sort.  Its  iron  had  entered  so  deeply 
into  the  soul  of  her  childhood  and  youth,  that  perhaps  it 
was  time  for  her  to  learn  now  the  great  limitations  of  the 
wealth  which  had  been  denied  to  her. 

"  I  have  had  my  sorrows  too;    I  h&ve  known  how 


THE  HOLLANDS.  183 

hard  poverty  is  also,"  answered  Jessamine,  her  lips  quiv- 
ering this  time. 

"  I  thought  you  would  not  have  been  so  tender  with- 
out you  had  known,"  said  Mrs.  Kent,  eagerly.  "Yet 
your  poverty  must  have  been  so  very  different  from  mine 
—  so  very  different  ;"•  and  she  shook  her  head  mournfully, 
and  Jessamine  could  make  no  reply. 

In  a  moment  the  lady  looked  up  eagerly  again.  "  If 
there  is  any  way  in  which  I  can  make  up  for  these  de- 
ficiencies, bftt  it  seems  so  late  to  begin  now ;  yet  I  would 
work  very  hard.  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  that  some 
day  my  little  boy  upstairs  may  live  to  know  they  are 
laughing  at  his  mother's  ignorance,  and  be  ashamed  of 
her." 

Her  face  worked,  the  tears  and  the  sobs  coming  up  to- 
gether behind  the  words.  She  had  touched  the  quick  of 
her  pain  now,  —  the  mother-love,  the  mother-pride,  that 
had  roused  and  steadied  the  whole  woman ;  that  had  con- 
quered the  vanities  and  affectations,  and  that  would  be  the 
secret  spring  feeding  any  new  purposes  of  growth  and  self- 
development  in  Mrs.  Kent. 

Jessamine  answered  out  of  her  quick  impulse  of  help 
and  pity,  "  But  it  is  not  too  late  to  redeem  all  that  has 
gone." 

Mrs:  Kent  looked  up  with  an  eager  light  breaking  all 
over  her  pretty,  tearful  face.  "  Do  you  really  think  so? 
That  is  what  I  wanted  to  know  —  to  ask  you.  I  am 
ready  to  do  anything;  it  is  not  too  late,  then?" 

Jessamine  hesitated  a  little.  It  was  no  light  question 
that  Mrs.  Kent  had  asked.  That  she  would  find  the 


184  THE  HOLLANDS. 

work  one  to  test  all  her  mental  and  moral  force,  Jessa- 
mine saw  clearly.  No  sudden  impulse,  no  strong  but 
evanescent  enthusiasm,  would  avail  her  here.  The  slow, 
wearisome  climbing  at  first ;  the  shaping  her  habits  of 
studies ;  the  ease,  the  pleasure,  the'  luxury  about  her ; 
the  calls  and  plans  of  each  day,  would  be  so  many  con- 
spiring forces  against  this  work  of  self-improvement.  Had 
the  sweet-faced  little  woman  sitting  there  the  strength 
and  the  courage  to  conquer  all  these  circumstances,  and 
gather  out  of  her  daily  life,  out  of  its  ease  ajid  pleasure, 
three  or  four  of  its  best  hours  for  slow,  hard  toil  of  this 
sort  ?  Jessamine  doubted.  And  her  answer  kept  faith 
with  herself. 

She  set  the  matter  in  its  true  light  before  the  young 
matron.  It  was  a  noble  impulse  which  possessed  her; 
Jessamine's  whole  soul  did  it  honor ;  but  she  could  not 
disguise  the  great  lions  which  stood  in  the  way.  Knowl- 
edge was  not  easily  won  ;  habits  of  study  were  not  easily 
formed.  The  beginning  especially  was  slow  and  hard.  A 
steadfast,  unswerving  purpose  alone  would  avail  her. 
Very  few  women  were  equal  to  work  of  this  sort.  The 
duties  and  the  delights  of  life  wore  away  the  hours,  and 
it  was  a  great  thing  to  look  them  in  the  face,  and  say, 
resolutely,  "I  give  up  all  the  rest  for  the  sake  of 
knowledge !" 

Mrs.  Kent  drank  in  every  word.  A  good  many  feel- 
ings, however,  in  her  face.  There  was  a  little  silence. 

"  But  if  you  were  in  my  place  —  I  know  you  will  tell 
me  truly  —  what  would  you  do  ?  Should  you  think  the 
work  and  the  struggle  would  pay  in  the  end?  "Would 


THE  HOLLANDS.  185 

you  not  give  up  the  rest,  the  ease,  and  the  pleasure,  for 
what  at  last  the  knowledge  would  be  to  you  ?  ' ' 

Thus  adjured,  what  could  Jessamine  reply  ?  A  sud- 
den steadfastness  grew  around  the  line  of  the  sweet  mouth ; 
a  new  strength  steadied  and  fired  the  whole  face.  ' '  \Tes, ' ' 
she  said  ;  "for  myself,  I  should  look  the  facts  in  the  face, 
and  I  should  put  down  the  love  of  ease,  of  luxury,  the 
pursuit  of  pleasure,  all  things  that  eat  away  the  days,  the 
months,  and  th£  years,  saying,  '  God  helping  me,  I  will 
seek  for  knowledge,'  sure  that  if  I  lived  to  be  forty  or 
fifty  years  old,  I  should  feel,  '  I  am  not  sorry  I  chose  the 
wiser  and  the  better  part.' ' 

"  And  so  I  will  choose,  and  so  I  shall  feel,  then,"  said 
Mrs.  Kent,  and  her  face  flashed  into  something  which  no 
one  had  ever  seen  there  before. 

Jessamine  could  not  discourage  her.  She  thought  of 
the  little  boy  upstairs,  and  it  seemed  that  he  was  plead- 
ing with  her  for  his  mother ;  that  the  sweet  baby  face 
which  she  had  never  seen  looked  at  her  half  reproach- 
fully, saying,  "  She  has  placed  her  future  in  your  hands. 
As  you  say,  so  she  will  do.  Tell  her  to  be  not  alone  the 
mother  I  can  love,  but  one  whose  mind  and  thought  I  can 
honor  and  revere,  as  you»  would  have  your  own  child,  if 
God  should  e'ver  give  you  one." 

The  baby  lay  upstairs,  nestled  in  snowy  laces,  smiling 
among  his  pleasant  dreams ;  but,  for  all  that,  Jessamine 
heard  his  voice  pleading.  So  she  could  not  find  it  in  her 
heart  to  discourage  Mrs.  Kent ;  still,  she  would  not  make 
herself  the  rule  for  another,  which  it  is  very  hard  not  to 
do  in  our  youth.  And  she  answered,  "  I  should  choose 


186  THE  HOLLANDS. 

the  study,  Mrs.  Kent,  because  I"  love  it  best.     It  is  not 
thus  with  all  women,  —  women,  too,  who  make  good  wives 
and  mothers ;   neither   is   knowledge   everything.     The 
heart  and  the  character,  in  the  long  run,  are  a  great  deal  * 
more.*" 

"But  the  knowledge  makes  both  wiser  and  better?" 
asked  Mrs.  Kent. 

"Always  wiser  and  better,  if  rightly  used." 

"  Then  I  am  making  the  right  choice.  0  I  shall  not  re- 
pent it,"  added  the  young  wife. 

"  But  there  is  another  way,"  added  Jessamine  ;  "an 
easier  one.  There  are  many  young  ladies  in  society  who 
have  a  superficial  knowledge,  that  with  a  certain  feminine 
tact  and  good  sense  manages  to  get  them  on  very  nicely. 
You  can  procure  a  French  teacher,  take  a  course  of  light, 
pleasant  reading,  and  with  your  quick  perceptions  you 
would  soon  find  yourself  on  a  level  with  these  people,  and 
study  would  not  be  the  hard  task  which  I  have  described 
it." 

"But  would  you,  in  my  place,  remember,  make  up 
your  mind  to  that  course  ?  " 

There  could  be  but  one  reply.  The  flash  in  her  face 
again.  "  No,  I  would  go  honestly  to  work ;  I  would 
make  no  shifts  of  this  sort ;  I  would  commence  at  the 
foundations." 

"I  am  utterly  ignorant,"  said  poor  Mrs.  Kent.  "I 
know  nothing  of  geography  or  grammar.  I  can  read 
and  spell,  and  Richard  says  I  write  a  pretty  hand  ;  that 
is  all." 

Jessamine's   sweetest   smile   came   out   on   her  face. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  187 

"  The  less  you  know,  the  greater  will  be  the  victory," 
she  said. 

' '  And  —  and  how  long  will  it  take  to  lay  the  founda- 
tions, —  form  these  habits  of  study?  "  asked  Mrs.  Kent. 

She  had  chosen  her  confidant  wisely.  Jessamine  had 
fought  much  of  the  battle  herself. 

The  girl  hesitated  a  moment.  "  I  think,  if  you  were 
to  study  persistently  three  hours  a  day,  for  one  year,  with 
some  judicious  teacher,  you  would  have  gained  the  battle. 
There  would  be  much  to  do  after  that;  but,  as  I  said,  the 
beginning  is  the  hardest." 

Mrs.  Kent  rose  up  and  placed  her  hands  in  Jessamine's  ; 
her  face  was  pale,  but  a  great  light  shone  out  of  it. 
"  Thank  you,  my  dear  friend,"  she  said.  "  I  will  study 
so  for  the  next  year." 

Just  then  the  bell  rang.  The  coachman  had  called  for 
Miss  Holland.  She  looked  at  her  watch  in  amazement, 
and  saw  that  the  two  hours  had  slipped  away  while  they 
had  been  talking. 


188  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ONLY  two  days  after  her  first  interview  with  Mrs. 
Kent,  Jessamine  found  herself  again  at  the  lady's  resi- 
dence, — an  urgent  note,  written  in  a  pretty,  though  rather 
painstaking,  undeveloped  hand,  having  carried  her  out  of 
town  again. 

Mrs.  Kent  met  her  guest  at  the  door,  her  face  prettier 
than  ever,  Jessamine  thought,  with  its  pleased,  eager  wel- 
come. 

"You  were  so  good  to  come,  Miss  Holland.  I  have 
been  half  frightened  at  my  boldness  in  sending  for  you 
ever  since  the  carriage  drove  off,  fearing  what  you  might 
think  of  it." 

"  My  thoughts  are  not  very  formidable  things  at  the 
best,"  laughed  Jessamine.  "  I  cannot  conceive  how  they 
should  ever  alarm  any  human  being.  This  time  they  re- 
solved themselves  into  .a  very  feminine  curiosity  to  know 
what  this  mystery  was  at  which  your  message  hinted  so 
strongly." 

"  It  is  a  little  plan  which  came  to  me  night  before  last ; 
and  I  have  pondered  it  ever  since.  You  see,  I  would  not 
do  anything  of  this  sort  suddenly  or  rashly," — blushing 
and  smiling. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  189 

The  two  had  come  into  the  quiet  little  alcove  room 
again,  where  they  had  their  first  talk,  and  where  Jes- 
samine had  a  home  feeling. 

She  was,  however,  quite  in  the  dark  regarding  Mrs. 
Kent's  meaning.  She  therefore  added,  in  her  bright, 
playful  way :  — 

' '  It  must  be  an  awfully  solemn  matter  which  re- 
quired two  whole  days'  consideration.  Why,  I  never  gave 
so  much  time  to  any  project  in  my  life.  I  think,  if  a  man 
should  propose  to  me,  I  should  arrive  at  an  absolute  de- 
cision in  less  than  half  that  time." 

Mrs.  Kent  could  not  help  laughing ;  but  she  grew  grave 
in  a  few  moments. 

"  But  this  plan  which  has  cost  me  so  much  time  and 
thought  will  never  come  to  anything  unless  you  consent 
to  it,  and  help  me  carry  it  out.  .  I  have  set  my  whole 
heart  on  it." 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  to  —  to  serve  you  in  any  way 
that  is  best  for  us  both,"  replied  Jessamine,  a  kind  of 
prescience  of  responsibility  coming  over  her,  and  making 
her  seek  her  words  carefully.  • 

Then  Mrs.  Kent's  plan  came  out,  which  affected  Jes- 
samine in  one  way  almost  as  vitally  as  her  hostess  in 
another. 

The  lady  had  been  revolving  all  her  friend  had  said  to 
her  in  their  last  interview,  and  was  certain  that  Jessamine 
was  the  only  person  in  the  world  who  could,  assist  Mrs. 
Kent  to  carry  out  her  purposes  of  study. 

The  whole  matter  resolved  itself  into  a  most  pressing 
invitation  to  Jessamine  Holland,  to  come  and  take  up  her 


1*90  THE  HOLLANDS. 

abode  with  Mrs.  Kent  for  the  next  year,  and  induct  that 
lady  into  her  studies. 

She  pleaded  her  cause  with  an  earnestness,  force,  and 
eloquence  which  really  quite  took  from  Jessamine  the 
power  to  reply  after  her  first  amazement  at  the  proposi- 
tion of  her  hostess. 

Mrs.  Kent,  like  everybody  else  in  the  Walbridge  circle, 
knew  the  history  of  Jessamine  Holland's  acquaintance 
with  the  family,  and  that  she  was  an  orphan,  with  no 
near  kin  in  the  world  except  the  heroic  brother  who  had 
gone  to  the  East  Indies  to  seek  a  fortune  for  himself  and 
his  sister. 

She  barely  touched  on  that,  however.  All  the  favor 
was  to  come  from  Jessamine,  all  the  bounty  to  be  reaped 
by  herself.  She  urged  her  necessity,  and  insisted  stren- 
uously on  the  fact  that  Jessamine  alone  would  be  a  stimu- 
lant and  support  to  her  in  the  solemn  resolution  she  had 
formed  of  educating  herself. 

There  were  teachers  to  be  had,"  no  doubt ;  but  these 
would  not  be  friends,  nor  apprehend  all  the  delicate  com- 
plications of  the  case.  Nobody  in  the  world  could  do 
that  but  Miss  Holland;  and,  besides  that,  — with  another 
little  blush  and  unsteadiness  of  lip  and  voice, —  Mrs.  Kent 
was  so  shockingly  ignorant  she  should  be  afraid  and 
ashamed  to  expose  all  this  to  a  hired  teacher,  who  might 
go  away  and  ridicule  her,  as  those  ladies  who  prided  them- 
selves on  their  good-breeding  had  not  hesitated  to  do. 
Then  Jessamine's  presence  would  be  a  constant  inspira- 
tion to  Mrs.  Kent,  would  encourage,  sustain  her,  when 
her  own  faith  failed.  In  the  world,  in  her  own  home,  in 


THE  HOLLANDS.  191 

herself  also,  she  would  have  constant  obstacles  to  encoun- 
ter, where  a  friend,  who  comprehended  them  all,  could 
alone  enable  her  to  be  steadfast. 

After  that  first  year,  which  Jessamine  had  told  her 
would  prove  the  real  test,  and  leave  her  at  its  close  van- 
quished or  victor,  Mrs.  Kent  could  take  the  reins ;  but 
now  her  hands  were  too  weak  and  unused  to  hold  them 
alone.  Would  Jessamine  help  her  ? 

All  this,  and  a  great  deal  more,  the  little  lady  said, 
pleading  her  cause  with  a  wonderful  fervor,  while  Jes- 
samine sat  still  trying  to  look  calmly  at  the  matter  which 
had  been  sprung  on  her  so  suddenly. 

Her  answer  was  doubtful  when  Mrs.  Kent  paused:  "It 
has  taken  me  so  completely  by  surprise  —  there  are  so 
many  things  to  consider  —  my  dear  Mrs.  Kent,  you  must 
give  me  time." 

"  Oh,  yes  —  only  "  — and  an  arch  smile  came  about  the 
young  matron's  mouth.  "You  said  that  it  would  not 
take  two  days  to  decide  in  case  of  a  proposal :  now  this 
is  a  far  less  important  matter  and  I  am  so  impatient." 

Jessamine  could  but  admit  that  her  own  remark  was 
very  shrewdly  forged  by  her  hostess  into  a  weapon  for  that 
lady's  cause ;  and  then  the  latter  went  on  drawing  a  most 
captivating  picture  of  the  quiet,  happy  times  they  would 
have  together.  There  was  the  pleasant,  ample  house, 
with  the  wide  grounds,  where  the  summer  was  coming 
to  work  its  old  Eden  miracle  afresh,  and  Miss  Holland 
should  be  just  as  much  at  home  as  under  her  own  roof, 
and  live  her  own  life  with  absolute  freedom  as  it  pleased 
her.  There  should  be  the  three  hours  for  study,  an  in- 


192  .        THE  HOLLANDS. 

exorable  law ;  and  beyond  that  were  walks,  and  drives, 
and  sails,  whenever  Jessamine  should  choose. 

They  were  both  young  and  enthusiastic  in  different 
ways,  and  if  the  coleur  de  rose  visions  spread  enchanted 
landscapes  before  them,  it  was  natural  enough. 

"I  would  try  to  make  you  very  happy,"  said  Mrs. 
Kent,  in  a  way  that  was  really  touching,  at  the  con- 
clusion; "and  at  least  you  could  come  and  try  it,  you 
know." 

"  I  am  quite  overwhelmed  by  all  your  goodness,"  stam- 
mered Jessamine,  whose  youth  and  fancy  had  been  quite 
dazzled  with  the  glowing  pictures.  "  I  have  no  doubt  1 
should  be  very  happy,  but  —  but  I  wonder  what  Boss 
would  say  ! ' ' 

Here  was  an  element  in  the  argument  on  which  Mrs. 
Kent  had  not  counted;  She  was  not  at  all  disposed  to 
leave  the  matter  to  the  arbitration  of  somebody  on  the 
other  side  of  the  planet. 

She  was  simply  an  impulsive,  undeveloped  young  girl  at 
this  time,  with  a  warm  heart  and  a  good  deal  of  latent  en- 
ergy under  the  pretty  face.  Her  instincts  were  true. 
She  had  selected  her  confidant  wisely.  Whatever  Jes- 
samine might  share  of  ease  and  luxury  in  the  elegant 
home,  Mrs.  Kent  would  owe  far  more  to  her  by  contact 
with  a  finer  and  nobler  nature  than  any  she  had  ever  met, 
and  by  its  quiet,  moulding  influences  around  her  life. 
She  needed  Jessamine. 

"  If  I  could  see  this  wonderful  brother  of  yours,  I  am 
sure  I  could" bring  him  over  to  my  way  of  thinking ;  but 
you  will  not  hold  me  in  suspense  while  letters  can  go, 


THE  HOLLANDS.  193 

around  the  world  and  back,  to  have  him  decide  on  a  mat- 
ter-of  which  he  could  really  know  nothing.  The  whole 
thing  might  strike  him  as  a  foolish  vagary,  and  in  any 
case  he  must  leave  it  all  to  your  decision." 

This  reasoning  was  so  sensible  that  Jessamine  could 
not  gainsay  it.  I  think  *she  was  glad  she  could  not ;  but, 
for  all  that,  she  would  not  rush  with  hurried  feet  into 
this  new  life,  which  had  risen  up  suddenly,  like  a  stately 
palace  in  the  midst  of  shining  gardens,  to  receive  her. 

"  But  your  husband,  Mrs.  Kent,  —  does  he  know  of  this 
project,  and  approve  it?  " 

"  Oh,  yes;  Richard  is  so  good,  — you  have  to  know  him 
thoroughly  to  find  that  out,  Miss  Holland,  —  he  approves 
of  anything  that  will  make  me  happy.  It  is  true  that 
he  always  makes  light  of  my  ignorance,  with  some  such 
•answer  as  this,  '  You  are  wise  and  smart  enough  for  me. 
Dolly,'  —  that  is  one  of  his  pet  names.  '  Don't  bother 
that  little  head  of  yours  about  turning  into  a  bookworm ;' 
and  talk  of  that  sort.  And  even  if  I  were  to  tell  him  of 
some  of  the  humiliations  which  I  endure,  he  would  think 
it  all  proceeded  from  narrow  envy  or  jealousy.  A  man 
could  hardly  understand  these  things  as  we  do." 

"  Hardly,"  —  wondering  whether  Ross  or  Duke  Wai- 
bridge  would  not. 

"  But  Richard  did  not  raise  the  remotest  objection  to 
my  plan  when  I  laid  it  before  him,  and  in  the  end  I  am 
certain  he  will  not  think  the  less  of  me  for  carrying  it 
out;  besides,  he  will  like  you  as  well  as  I  do,  almost." 

Afterward,  Mrs.  Kent  took  Jessamine  upstairs,  and 
showed  her  the  room  which  she  had  appropriated  to  her 

17 


194  THE  HOLLANDS. 

use  in  case  she  consented  to  become  an  inmate  of  the 
household.  It  was  a  bower  pretty  enough  for  a  princess, 
instead  of  a  very  quiet  little  country  maiden ;  perhaps 
less  pretentious  than  the  stately  chamber  which  she  oc- 
cupied at  the  Walbridges,  but  quite  as  tasteful  and  ele- 
gant, with  its  dark  furniture,  its  snowy  linen  and  laces ; 
and  its  windows,  that  took  in  a  landscape,  whose  hills  and 
meadows,  with  their  shining  crinkle  of  brooks  and  river 
courses,  would  be  an  eternal  delight  to  the  eyes  of  Jes- 
samine Holland.  At  the  foot  of  the  bed,  too,  just  where 
those  radiant  eyes  would  be  sure  to  rest  on  it  when  they 
woke  up  from  the  night  into  the  new  day,  was  a  sea- 
picture, —  a  rare  thing,  by  DeHaas,  — along  green  line 
of  waves  writhing  up  in  glittering  coils  to  the  beach,  like 
a  huge  serpent  throwing  its  cold,  vast  length  on  the  dark, 
wet  sands  that  sparkled  in  the  light.  In  the  west,  the  sun 
was  going  down  in  great  masses  of-  angry  clouds ;  there 
was  a  heave  and  restlessness  of  the  vast  sea,  which  told 
one  it  was  girding  up  its  strength  to  meet  the  storm  that 
was  coming  down  upon  it ;  there  was  the  snowy  glitter  of 
the  sea-birds  in  the  distance,  and  across  the  bare,  reddish 
headlands. 

Jessamine  drew  in  her  breath.  A  sense  of  ease,  of 
home,  and  peaceful  shelter  came  softly  over  her.  She 
thought  of  the  little  room  at  Hannah  Bray's,  with  its 
bare  walls  and  its  clumsy  furniture,  to  which  she  must  go 
back  in  a  little  while.  Then  she  heard  Mrs.  Kent's 
voice:  "How  soon  shall  you  let  me  know  your  de- 
cision? " 

"You  must  give  me  one  night  to  sleep  over  it,"  an- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  '  105 

swered  Jessamine.  "  That  usually  clears  away  my  cob- 
webs of  doubt,  over  any  new  plans.  To-morrow  I  will 
write  you;"  and  with  this  understanding  the  .two  young 
things,  so  strangely  brought  together,  so  singularly  in  need 
of  each  other,  parted  at  the  door. 

As  Jessamine  rolled  through  the  grounds,  she  looked 
about  them  with  a  new  interest,  and  with  some  new  sense  of 
possession.  In  these  few  last  days  the  first  pulse  of  the 
spring  had  stirred  under  the  earth.  She  heard  a  robin 
singing  among  the  hedges,  and  with  a  sudden  yearning 
thrill  she  saw  clusters  of  "lady's  delights,"  constella- 
tions of  purple  and  gold,  in  the  flower-borders  at  her  feet. 

Would  this  earthly  Paradise  ever  really  be  her  home  ? 
Was  it  a  dream,  whose  glowing  mirage  filled  an  hour  of 
the  night,  or  something  that  had  really  fallen  to  her 
human  lot  ?  setting  herself  back  in  the  carriage  when  she 
found  that  her  lashes  were  wet.  Only  that  morning  Jes- 
samine had  been  compelling  herself  to  look  the  fact  in 
the  face  that  she  must  return  home,  and  the  time  was 
drawing  nigh  to  do  this.  She  would  not  admit  to  her  most 
secret  thought  that  there  had  been  any  failure  of  cordial- 
ity in  the  manner  of  the  Walbridges  since  she  first  became 
their  guest. 

Jessamine  Holland  was  not  morbid ;  but  her  instincts 
were  sensitive,  and  if  she  would  have  allowed  herself  to 
heed  them,  she  might  have  felt  that  there  was  a  subtle 
difference  of  manner  in  her  hostess,  and  in  that  of  her 
elder  daughters. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  herself  was  unconscious  of  this ;  in- 
deed, she  made  a  constant  effort  not  to  fail  in  any  atten- 


196  THE  HOLLANDS. 

tion  to  her  guest ;  but  it  was  impossible  for  even  that 
lady  to  absolutely  mask  her  feelings ;  and  of  late  she  had 
set  her  heart  on  Duke's  taking  to  wife  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley,  and  she  was  not  certain  whether  Jessamine  Holland 
stood  in  the  way  of  this  consummation.  Sometimes  Mrs. 
Walbridge  made  herself  believe  that  her  fears  were 
groundless  ;  and  then  again  she  was  less  confident  of  the 
state  of  her  son's  affections.  She  watched  Duke  narrow- 
ly ;  she  pondered  his  words,  and  yet  she  feared  to  let  fall 
a  hint  which  should  indicate  the  desire  on  which  she  had 
set  her  heart. 

All  this,  of  course,  did  not  tend  to  promote  Jessamine 
Holland  in  Mrs.  Walbridge's  estimation.  The  lady  must 
have  been  glad  of  any  circumstance  which  would  have  re- 
lieved her  from  the  unwelcome  presence  of  her  young 
guest.  Mrs.  Walbridge  would  not  admit  to  herself  that 
she  disliked  Jessamine  Holland ;  but,  for  all  that,  she  did, 
in  secret,  as  we  are  apt  to  do  those  whom  we  fear  may 
frustrate  our  dearest  plans.  And  all  unconsciously  to  her- 
self, there  was  at  times  a  faint  chilliness  in  her  tones  and 
manner  toward  Miss  Holland,  though  that  young  lady 
denied  it  most  energetically  to  herself  when  her  .instincts 
first  suggested  the  fact. 

Edith,  who  sympathized  with  her  mother's  feeling, 
was,  perhaps,  a  little  less  guarded.  Margaret  Wheatley 
she  had  resolved  should  be  her  sister-in-law,  and  here  she 
was  confident  of  the  sympathy  of  her  whole  family,  with 
the  exception  of  Eva,  who  was  kept  wholly  in  the  dark. 
She  was  too  young  to  understand  anything  of  the  sort, 
Mrs.  Walbridge  said.  There  was  no  doubt  that  Mrs. 

i 


THE  HOLLANDS.  197 

Ashburn  could  be  relied  on  to  use  all  her  influence  to 
promote  the  union  of  her  niece  with  the  son  of  her  friend. 
Duke  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  lady,  who  had  an 
immense  horror  of  fortune-hunters,  and  a  constant  dread 
<lest  her  niece  should  be  sacrificed  to  some  one  of  .these, 
his  real  purpose  disguised  under  graceful  bearing  and 
flattering  tongue. 

Mrs.  Ashburn's  influence  would  be  no  small  force  in 
Duke's  favor,  both  with  father  and  daughter.  As  for 
Margaret  herself,  the  young  man  had  always  been  an 
immense  favorite  with  her  from  childhood.  Everything 
was  auspicious  for  Duke's  suit  to  a  bride  with  a  dowry  of 
half  a  million  to  add  to  her  many  charms  and  graces. 

Did  this  unknown  stranger,  without  fortune  or  friends, 
whom  circumstances  had  forced  on  their  hospitality, 
stand  in  the  way  of  so  brilliant  an  alliance,  —  one  that 
would  do  honor  to  the  Walbridge  race  ?  ' '  She  shall 
not,"  muttered  Edith;  and  her  haughty  face  darkened, 
and  her  mother  listened,  and  did  not  reprove  her 
daughter. 

Jessamine  found,  on  her  return  from  Mrs.  Kent's, 
that  a  plan  had  been  concocted  by  the  young  people  to 
ride  over  to  the  Falls,  —  a  little  picturesque  torrent  of 
water  in  a  gorge  of  low,  black  rocks,  a  few  miles  from 
the  city.  Doubtless  the  attraction  of  the  scenery  was 
greatly  enhanced  by  the  drive  to  the  waterfall,  which 
wound  charmingly  among  the  meadows,  with  sudden  out- 
breaks and  surprises  of  hill  and  valley  scenery. 

Jessamine  had  frequently  been  promised  a  ride  to  this 
waterfall  when  the  spring  weather  opened,  though  Duke 


198  THE  HOLLANDS. 

had  been  disposed  to  have  a  jest,  at  Eva's  expense,  over 
her  highly  colored  descriptions  of  the  size  and  volume 
of  the  stream  :  "0  Eva !  one  would  think  to  hear  you 
go  on,  that  we  had  a  companion-piece  to  Niagara  up  there 
among  the  rocks.  It  is  only  a  pretty  stream  of  water 
leaping  over  the  stones  from  a  considerable  height ;  but, 
then,  small  eyes  see  things  in  such  enlarged  proportions; 
a  cherry  once  looked  bigger  in  my  eyes  than  an  apple 
does  now." 

".No  doubt  it  will  in  mine,  when  I  have  attained  your 
venerable  age,"  answered  Eva,  pertly  enough.  The 
brother  and  sister  were  always  having  their  badinage  over 
each  other's  ages,  all  of  which  vastly  amused  Jessa- 
mine. 

Eva  was  full  of  the  details  of  the  ride  when  Jessamine 
returned.  The  air  was  soft  as  a  late  May-day,  full  of 
sunshine  and  the  fragrance  of  blossoms.  Everybody 
seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that  Miss  Holland  would 
go ;  and  she  would  have  thought  it  absurd  to  demand  a 
more  ceremonious  invitation. 

Of  course,  it  never  entered  Duke's  thought  that  Jessa- 
mine would  not  be  included  in  the  party  ;  but  Edith  had 
made  up  her  mind  that  morning  to  weave  a  little  silken 
net  of  intrigue  about  the  whole  affair.  She  was  resolved 
that  her  brother  and  Margaret  Wheatley  should  occupy 
the  carriage  by  themselves,  if  she  could  compass  it. 
"  There  is  no  reason  why  Miss  Holland  should  see  the 
Avaterfall  on  this  particular  occasion,"  she  said  to  her- 
self; "and  there  are  especial  reasons  why  Duke  should 
just  at  this  time  be  thrown,  as  much  as  possible,  in  Mar- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  199 

garet  Wheatley's  society,  with  no  distracting  influences 
about  him." 

The  eldest  daughter  of  Mason  Walbridge  would  have 
made  an  artist  in  delicate  intrigue.  This  matter  required 
dainty  handling,  for  it  would  never  answer  to  offend 
Duke  or  wound  Miss  Holland.  Edith  Walbridge' s  plan 
was  worthy  of  herself. 

Jessamine  Stood  at  the  mirror  putting  on  her  hat,  for 
the  carriages  were  coming  up  the  drive,  when  there  was 
a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Miss  Walbridge  suddenly  en- 
tered the  room. 

"Oh,  I  beg  pardon  !  "  —  and  she  started  back  with  a 
wonderfully  well-counterfeited  look  of  surprise.  "  I  did 
not  understand  —  you  are  going  with  us,  Miss  Hol- 
land?" Voiqe  and  smile  very  cordial  over  these  last 
words,  in  which,  too,  was  a  lurking  embarrassment. 

"Yes  —  that  is  —  I  was  expecting  to."  answered  Jes- 
samine, a  little  incoherently,  surprised  and  curious. 
",But  is  there  any  reason  —  I  beg  you  will  tell  me  what 
your  errand  was,  Miss  Walbridge." 

"It  was  a  very  small  matter,  a  mere  misapprehen- 
sion on  my  part.  I  am  quite  confused,  Miss  Holland." 

She  certainly  looked  so.  standing  there  in  her  dark, 
handsome  riding-suit ;  and  Jessamine  Holland  was  not 
by  nature  suspicious.  She  always  took  people  at  their 
word. 

"  I  shall  not  feel  comfortable  unless  you  frankly  tell 
me  what  brought  you  in  here,  Miss  Walbridge." 

."Well,  then,  as  I  am  caught,  mouse-like,  in  a  snug 
little  trap,  I  suppose  there  is  no  way  but  to  make  a 


200  THE  HOLLANDS. 

clean  breast  of  it,"  answered  Edith,  with  an  air  of  reluc- 
tant frankness. 

"  I  thought  you  said  to  Eva  at  lunch  that  you  had 
letters  to  write  to  your  brother,  which  would  prevent 
your  joining  our  party  for  the  Falls  this  afternoon  ;  and 
I  have  just  received  some  handsome  engravings  of  Span- 
ish mountain  and  coast  views,  which  I  thought  might 
interest  you  in  case  you  felt  lonely  before  we  returned ; 
and  I  called  to  say,  knowing  your  taste  for  anything  of 
the  sort,  that  I  had  laid  them  on  the  library  table  for 
your  amusement." 

This  was  very  kind  and  thoughtful  of  Edith.  Was  it 
strange  that  Jessamine  Holland's  gaze  could  not  pene- 
trate far  down  into  any  secret  motive  which  underlaid  all 
the  graciousness ;  that  she  took  the  whole  with  her 
native  good  faith  ? 

"  I  thank  you  sincerely,  Miss  Walbridge.  It  was  not 
strange  that  you  misapprehended  me ;  for  I  did  tell  Miss 
Eva  that  I  had  intended  to  bestow  this  afternoon  on 
Ross,  as  the  steamer  sails  day  after  to-morrow,  but  that 
I  would  break  my  rules  and  sit  up  the  best  part  of  the 
night  to  write  him." 

"  And  —  and  I  have  just  told  Duke  —  0  Miss  Hol- 
land, I  beg  you  will  pardon  all  my  stupidity,  and  take 
my  place  !  Really,  this  ride  is  quite  unimportant  to  me, 
I  have  taken  it  so  many  times." 

Edith  Walbridge  seemed  confused  and  distressed.  It 
was  like  Jessamine  to  hasten  to  relieve  her. 

' '  Don't  think  of  me  in  the  least,  Miss  Walbridge ;  but 
just  enlighten  me,  and  then  I  am  sure  we  shall  be  able 


THE  HOLLANDS.  201 

to  adjust  the  whole  matter;  "  laying  down  her  gloves  on 
the  table. 

Then  Edith  went  on  to  say  that,  in  the  full  belief  of 
Miss  Holland's  refusal  to  accompany  them,  she  had 
insisted  on  Duke's  taking  the  ph.aeton,  which  would  only 
accommodate  two  people  comfortably. 

"  I  thought  this  arrangement  might  be  pleasanter  than 
to  have  Eva  by  his  side ;  as  I  presume  you  are  aware, 
Miss  Holland,  that  a  peculiar  friendship  has  always 
existed  between  Duke  and  Margaret  Wheatley.  She 
was  the  only  little  girl  whom  he  ever  heartily  fancied, 
and  we  used  to  imagine  'their  childish  penchant  might 
ripen  into  a  real  attachment ;  and,  as  I  have  an  impres- 
sion the  old  feeling  may  not  have  quite  perished,  I  man- 
aged that  they  should  ride  undisturbed  to  this  old  haunt 
of  theirs,  knowing  it  was  very  full  of  childish  associations 
to  both  of  them.  Of  course  I  should  never  have  alluded 
tb  this  matter  if  these  circumstances  had  not  forced  me." 

Edith  said  this  in  the  most  natural  way  imaginable. 
Still,  she  watched  covertly  the  effect  of  her  words  on  her 
listener.  There  was  no  apparent  embarrassment.  Jes- 
samine stood  quietly  and  earnestly  listening,  with  no 
change  in  her  face,  except  the  swift  color  which  was 
always  coming  and  going,  and  therefore  furnished  no 
criterion  on  the  present  occasion. 

"And  —  and  —  oh,  I  begin  to  see  the  facts  now. 
Your  own  carriage  will  be  filled,  and  so  you  wish  to 
remain  at  home  to  make  room  for  me.  You  are  very 
kind,  Miss  "Walbridge,  but  of  course  that  is  not  to  be 
thought  of;*"  and  Jessamine  took  off  her  hat. 


202  THE  HOLLANDS. 

(i  Oli,  do  put  it  on  !  "  pleaded  Edith.  "  I  shall  not 
have  a  moment's  comfort  during  the  ride,  and  Duke 
would  be  so  vexed  if  he  knew  all  this." 

"  He  need  know  nothing  about  it,"  answered  Jessa- 
mine, eager  to  relieve  her  friend's  embarrassment.  "  Just 
tell  him  that  I  am  really  unable  to  take  the  ride  this 
afternoon  and  finish  my  letter  to  Ross,  which  is  the  sim- 
ple truth,  and  don't. give  another  thought  to  this  matter." 

Edith,  sure  of  her  ground  now,  demurred  and  pro- 
tested ;  but  Jessamine  was  firm,  and  at  last  she  was 
obliged  to  leave,,  and  she  went  down  secretly  exulting 
over  the  success  of  her  finess'b. 

"Where  is  Miss  Holland?"  asked  Duke,  a  little  im- 
patiently, as  she  joined  the  group. 

"  She  sent  her  excuses  ;  but  she  has  concluded  that  she 
will  ^remain  behind  and  write  to  her  brother.  You  know 
she  is  the  model  of  sisters,  Duke.  I  can  only  admire  her 
at  a  distance  now ;  but  perhaps  if  you  were  in  India  *I 
would  do  the  same  for  you." 

11  Why,  Miss  Holland  said  she  would  put  off  writing 
her  brother  until  night !  ' '  exclaimed  Eva,  in  a  voice  full 
of  chagrin. 

".Well,  she  has  altered  her  mind,  and  none  of  us  can 
induce  her  to  go  now,"  promptly  responded  Edith. 
"  You  will  ride  in  the  phaeton  with  Margaret,  and  Eva 
can  come  with  us."  she  added,  to  her  brother. 

Duke  turned  toward  the  carriage,  but  his  sister 
hardly  liked  the  expression  of  his  face.  There  was  some- 
thing dark  and  grim  about  it,  which  was  a  sure  indication 
that  matters  had  gone  wrong  with  him. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  203 

She  would  have  felt  still  less  exultant  over  the  success 
of  her  little  master-piece  of  intrigue  could  she  have  looked 
down  into  her  brother's  heart  and  read  the  thoughts 
there.  "  Ah,  Jessamine,  I  am  only  the'friend  of  Ross  in 
your  thought.  Shall  I  ever  be  more?" 

Margaret  Wheatley  waited  for  him  with  her  brightest 
smile,  her  face  set  off  at  its  very  best,  under  a  mass  of 
flowers  and  plumes.  If  there  were  any  sentiment  exist- 
ing between  the  two,  this  afternoon  was  certainly  the 
time  to  inspire  it.  There  were  all  the  old  childish  asso- 
ciations linked  with  this  ride,  for  long  ago  Duke  had 
driven  Margaret  Wheatley  over  to  the  waterfall  with  his 
new  pony,  and  was  as  proud  of  his  prowess  as  a  young 
knight  of  the  spurs  he  had  just  won  ;  and  the  little  girl's 
admiration  for  her  boy-cavalier  still  exercised  a  certain 
magic  over  the  young  woman. 

Every  mile  of  the  road  revived  some  old  memory,  and 
the  banker's  daughter  had,  never  in  her  life  been  more 
fascinating  than  she  was  on  that  drive.  There  was  little 
doubt  that  Duke  Walbridge  held  at  that  time  the  fate  of 
Margaret  Wheatley  in  his  hands ;  that,  had  he  chosen  to 
urge  his  suit  with  eager  heart  and  eloquent  tongue,  the 
bird  with  the  beautiful  plumage  and  the  golden  nest 
would  have  dropped  easily  into  his  outstretched  hand. 

But,  with  all  his  faults,  Duke  was  not  self-complacent, 
and  he  would  have  deemed  himself  meanly  disloyal  to 
any  woman  to  fancy  that  he  could  win  her  before  he  bad 
made  the  effort.  And  somewhat  after  this  fashion  his 
thoughts  went  to  himself:  "Ah,  Margaret,  Margaret, 
you  are  brilliant  and  fascinating,  and  all  that,  and  I  had 


204  THE  HOLLANDS. 

rather  have  you  by  my  side  this  minute  than  any  woman 
in  the  world,  saving  one  only,  —  one  with  a  soul  bright  and 
"strong,  like  fire,  tender  and  soft  as  dew ;  one  whose  very 
voice  and  presence  seem  to  banish  the  devils  of  which  I 
am  possessed,  —  devils  of  sloth,  vanity,  selfishness.  But, 
Margaret,  under  all  the  bloom  and  charm,  what  should  I 
find  if  my  soul  went  to  you  for  cool  springs,  when  it  was 
hot  and  thirsty  in  the  hard  wrestle  of  life  ?  I  know  my 
weaknesses,  I  and  God,  and  that  the  devil  is  forever  get- 
ting the  better  of  what  little  good  is  in  me.  I  want  a 
woman  who  will  help  to  make  me  a  truer  man,  who  will 
inspire  and  exalt  me,  who,  knowing  my  weaknesses,  will 
hold  for  me  still  her  first  love  and  faith  ;  while  daily, 
hourly  contact  with  her  nobleness,  purity,  sweetness, 
shall  be  the  slow  leaven  to  refine  this  big,  sluggish  lump 
of  me." 

What  would  Margaret  Wheatley,  sitting  by  his  side, 
with  her  young  bloom  and  grace,  have  thought  of  all 
this  ?  It  would  have  sounded  to  her  like  the  vagaries  of  a 
madman.  She  could  have  ha(J  no  comprehension  of,  much 
less  any  sympathy  with  it.  Yet  you  would  have  thought 
to  see  the  two  that  this  young  man  and  maiden  were  hav- 
ing the  merriest  time  imaginable.  The  light  badinage 
flashed  back  and  forth  between  themselves  and  the  party 
in  the  two  carriages  behind,  in  which  rode  all  of  Duke's 
sisters,  with  some  of  the  young  gentlemen  in  their  train. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  205 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

BUT  somebody  in  the  stately  chamber  at  the  Wai- 
bridges  was  not  having  a  very  merry  time,  whatever 
might  be  the  case  with  the  party. 

Jessamine  conscientiously  made  ready  her  writing 
materials  for  Ross'  letter.  But  something  was  the  mat- 
ter with  the  girl.  There  was  no  tumult,  no  thunderings 
nor  lightnings,  but  chill  and  blackness,  and  creeping 
across  all  those  soft  words  of  Edith's  about  her  brother 
and  Margaret  Wheatley.  There  was  a  pain,  too,  in  her 
heart,  —  alive-dead  ache.  Trying  to  shake  it  off,  the  girl 
rose  lip  and  dragged  her  heavy  limbs  across  the  room. 
"Oh,  dear!"  she  said,  "I  wish  there  was  somebody 
in  the  world  in  whose  lap  I  could  lay  down  my  head  a  . 
little  while ;  some  mother  or  sister ; ' '  her  mouth  quiver- 
ing like  a  grieved  child's. 

Jessamine  did  not  know  what  ailed  her.  She  only 
felt  so  utterly  forlorn  and  lonely  in  the  world.  For  the 
first  time  there  came  across  her  a  longing  to  get  away 
from  the  splendor  which  had  surrounded  her;  and 
Hannah  Bray's  words  returned  to  her  :  "I  feel  certain 
you  will  not  come  back  to  us  as  you  went  away,  my 
child."~ 


206  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Her  homely  friend  was  right  there.  A  new  world  lay 
between  her  and  that  morning  when  she  went  out  from 
the  old  house,  and  turned  to  look  at  it  for  the  last  time, 
with  a  sudden  yearning  in  her  heart.  Ah  !  it  is  only 
when  we  strain  them  suddenly,  that  we  find  how  tough 
are  the  old  fibres  woven  of  memory  and  association. 

With  a  sudden  longing,  too,  Jessamine  looked  off  to 
the  new  home  which  had  been  offered  her.  Was  not  God 
caring  for  her  again?  She  had  been  afraid  that  she 
should  live  a  useless  life  in  his  world.  There  might  be 
some  hidden  corner  in  the  great  garden  of  the  Lord  for 
her  to  make  a  little  fairer ;  at  any  rate,  she  would  try. 

She  sat  down  now,  and  cried  all  alone,  not  passion- 
ately, but  large,  salt,  bitter  tears,  whose  hopelessness 
did  not  belong  to  her  youth,  or  to  any  age,  for  that  mat-' 
ter,  but  she  could  not  cry  away  that  dull,  steady  ache 
about  her  heart.  Ross  must  be  written  to  though,  and 
the  afternoon  was  wearing  away,  and  the  party  of  gay 
people  would  soon  be  back,  and  she  must  meet  them  with 
a  face  that  would  tell  no  story  of  this  miserable  after- 
noon. 

She  tried  to  put  a  light  heart  into  her  letter  ;  but,  de- 
spite herself,  there  was  a  heavy  throb  through  it  some- 
times. 

The  new  home  which  had  opened  its  doors  to  her  of  a 
sudden  formed  the  principal  feature  in  Jessamine's  let- 
ter. Ross'  nature  was  a  practical  one,  and  she  felt  some 
uneasiness  lest  he  should  regard  the  whole  matter  as 
rather  visionary  and  romantic.  But  men  could  not  judge 
in  such  matters  for  women,  as  Mrs.  Kent  had  said,  and 


THE  HOLLANDS.  207 

Jessamine  saw  that  she  must  take  this  affair  into  her  own 
hands. 

The  letter  was  not  finished  until  long  after  the  gay 
party  had  returned. 

When  Jessamine  went  downstairs  her  face  was  steady 
enough,  and  she  listened  to  rapturous  accounts  of  the 
ride,  and  to  regrets  on  every  side  that  she  did  not  go. 

Duke,  however,  kept  aloof  from  her.  Indeed,  there 
had  come  of  late  a  slight  constraint  in  his  manner  toward 
her.  Always  conscious  of  her  presence,  with  his  veins 
full  of  fire,  and  his  heart  throbbing  like  a  fluttered 
maiden's,  how  could  the  young  man  maintain  just  the 
old,  light  composure  of  his  bearing,,  when  face  to  face 
with  the  lady  of  his  love,  and  that  awful  secret  .within 
his  soul  ? 

Jessamine  was  conscious  of  this  change  too ;  but,  if 
possible,  Duke's  watchfulness  for  her  ease  and  happiness 
seemed  to  augment  at  this  time ;  so  she  would  not  allow 
herself  to  see  any  difference  in  his  manner.  After  din- 
ner, that  evening,  some  friends  from  New  York  called  on 
Mrs.  Ashburn  and  her  niece,  and  Duke  and  Jessamine 
were  left  awhile  almost  alone  in  the  library,  —  something 
which  very  -seldom  happened  nowadays.  The  conversa- 
tion seemed  to  flag  between  them.  At  last,  he  took  up 
a  volume  from  the  table,  and,  running  over  the  leaves, 
his-  eyes  lighted  on  a  passage  which  brought  a  sudden 
change  over  his  face.  A  light  shone  in  them,  and  a 
smile,  half  curious,  half  amuse.d,  played  about  his 
mouth. 

He    looked   up   at   Jessamine,    the   smile   making  a 


208  THE  HOLLANDS. 

•warmth  about  the  coldness  of  her  heart.  "  What  book 
have  you  there?  "  she  asked,  suddenly. 

"  '  The  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish.'  Of  course  you 
have  read  it?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  with  a  wonderful  delight.  Priscilla  on  her 
milk-white  steed,  going  through  the  forest,  with  John 
Alden  walking  by  her  side  that  autumn  day,  is  a  picture 
that  one,  having  seen  it  through  the  poet's  eyes,  can 
never  forget,  —  the  homeliness,  the  truth,  the  tenderness, 
and  the  beauty." 

"And  in  its  pure,  fresh,  wholesome  atmosphere, 
how  all  the  splendor  and  magnificence  of  a  fashionable 
bridal* shows  its  tinsel  and  its  gas-lights!"  answered 
Duke. . 

"  You  were  smiling  at  some  passage  in  your  reading 
just  now.  What  was  it  pleased  you?  " 

An  impulse  seized  Duke  at  the  moment,  that  left  him 
no  volition  of  his  own.  He  handed  the  volume  over  to 
Jessamine,  and  pointed  to  the  lines ;  but  he  did  not  tell 
her  he  was  thinking  of  her,  nor  how  well  they  suited  his 
own  case. 

So  she  read  the  passage :  — 

"  '  But  of  a  thundering  No,  point  blank  from  the  mouth  of  a  woman, 
That  I  confess  I'm  ashamed  of,  nor  am  I  ashamed  to  confess  it.'" 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Jessamine,  in  her  quiet,  earnest 
way,  as  though  the  matter  had  not  the  slightest  connec- 
tion with  herself,  and  just  as  she  would  have  said  it  to 
Ross,  "  that  any  man  would  have  much  reason  to  be 
afraid  of  a  woman  Avho  would  '  thunder  '  a  '  No  ! '  in  his 


THE  HOLLANDS.  209 

• 

ear  to  such  a  question,  asked  honestly  and  loyally.  At 
any  rate  such  a  'No,'  in  the  end,  would  be  better  than 
•'  Yes.'  " 

Duke  looked  at  the  girl  sitting  there  in  her  soft,  quiet 
grace,  sweet  and  womanly  as  the  Puritan  maiden  they 
were  talking  about.  'Something  leaped  and  shone  wide 
and  hungry  in  his  eyes. 

"  Your  '  No,'  would  never  be  thundered  in  any  man's 
ears,  Miss  Jessamine.  I  can  imagine  what  a  low,  soft, 
pitiful  thing  it  would  be ;  but  for  all  that  it  might  rumble 
through  his  soul  for  years  afterward,  the  death-blow  of 
all  his  hopes,  dreams,  aspirations  —  life  itself — never 
clearing  the  air  and  making  it  sweeter." 

Jessamine  looked  up  in  a  swift  surprise,  her  face  all  in 
a  heat  at  those  strange  words  and  the  stranger  tone,  and 
met  the  shining,  hungry  glance. 

It  confused  —  frightened  her.  How  she  would  have 
answered,  or  whether  at  all,  she  never  knew  ;  for  at  that 
mbment  Eva  darted  intc^the  library. 

What  more  Duke  would  have  said  he  never  knew 
also  ;  for  he  had  been  overmastered  and  hurried  quite  out 
of  himself. 

But  the  wind  suddenly  changed,  and  blew  from  the 
west  in  the  soul  of  Jessamine  Holland ;  and,  instead  of 
the  dark,  there  was  light,  and  gladness,  and,  the  singing 
of  birds.  She  did  not  stop  to  ask  what  had  wrought  the 
change ;  perhaps  she  was  afraid  to. 

But  the  next  hour  was  a  very  pleasant  one  for  the 
three.  Eva  brought  up  the  ride  again,  and  was  ener- 
getic in  her  regrets  that  Jessamine  had  remained  at  home. 

18 


210  THE  HOLLANDS. 

•  « 

"I  was  selfish  enough  to  hope  that  you  would  forget 
Ross  for  a  few  hours  for  the  rest  of  us,"  said  Duke. 

"He  really  wanted  her  to  go  then,"  Jessamine 
thought,  ' '  despite  his  penchant  for  Margaret  Wheatley . 
Duke  would  not  speak  in  that  way  without  he  meant 
it." 

"  Meanwhile,  Edith  was  relating  to  her  mother  the  "  lit- 
tle stroke  of  policy,"  as  she  called  it,  which  had  kept 
Miss  Holland  at  home  that  afternoon,  Mrs.  Walbridge 
and  Mrs.  Ashburn  having  at  the  time  been  down  town 
together. 

"  It  was  very  cleverly  managed,  my  dear,"  answered 
the  lady,  when  her  daughter  concluded;  "but  I  do  not 
like  to  have  a  daughter  of  my  own  resort  to  manoeuvres 
of  this  sort.  I  always  was  opposed  to  intrigues." 

"  Oh,  well,  mamma,  one  can't  always  be  squeamish  ; 
And  I  think  the  circumstances  justified  a  little  manage- 
ment on  my  part." 

"  I  hope  they  did.  So  Duke  and  Margaret  had  their 
ride  quite  to  themselves?  ' ' 

' '  Yes ;  in  the  phaeton.  I  wish  Duke  had  seized  so  pro- 
pitious a  chance  to  propose.  I  have  no  doubt  as  to  the 
success  of  his  suit.  How  I  do  wish  that  boy  knew  which 
side  his  bread  was  buttered  !  " 

' '  I  suspect  the  knowledge  would  not  materially  influ- 
ence his  conduct.  But  Margaret  Wheatley  is  such  a 
charming  creature,  I  have  been  in  hopes  that  your 
brother  would  fall  in  love  with  her." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  would  never  "put  it"  in  any  other 
light,  never  admit  to  herself  even  that  the  girl's  fortune 


THE  HOLLANDS.  211 

lay  at   the  bottom  of  her  eager  desire  that   Margaret 
Wheatley  should  be  her  daughter-in-law. 

"*It  shan't  be  my  fault  if  she  isn't,"  answered  Edith, 
with  a  toss  of  her  head. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  smiled,  looking  on  her  handsome  eldest 
daughter.  She  had  great  faith  in  Edith's  diplomatic  skill 
when  she  exerted  it;  but  she  said  now,  "Be  careful, 
my  child,  not  to  do  anything  that  you  may  regret  after- 
ward, even  to*  bring  to  pass  a  thing  which  we  all  so 
ardently  desire." 

This  was  a  gentle  admonition,  which  satisfied  Mrs. 
Walbridge's  conscience,  while  it  would  not  be  likely  to 
exert  any  strong  influence  upon  her  daughter's  proceed- 
ings. 

Jessamine  Holland  carried  a  heart  fluttering  in  hap- 
piness up  to  her  room  that  night.  The  look  that  shone 
in  Duke's  eyes  made  her  cheeks  hot  and  her  pulses  bound 
whenever  she  thought  of  it.  What  did  it  mean  ? 

'  Jessamine  asked  herself  that  question,  and  then  —  I 
think  she  was  afraid  to  answer  it  to  herself —  a  singular 
tremulousness  came  over  her ;  she  drew  her  breath  hard ; 
and  her  eyes  were  like  the  stars  with  the  new  glory  and 
joy  and  beauty  which  shone  in  them.  And  with  the  old 
childish  prayer  that  night,  she  added  another,  that  if  her 
Father's  hand  had  opened  the  gates  of  the  new  home,  the 
light  and  the  wisdom  might  be  given  her  to  see  clearly 
and  .walk  wisely.  And  then  she  laid  down  and  slept  on 
it,  as  she  had  promised  Mrs.  Kent.  The  next  morning 
hej  decision  was  embodied  in  the  brief  note  which  she 
sent  to  the  lady  :  — 


212  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  MY  DEAR  FRIEND  :  /  will  come  and  do,  God  helping  me,  the 
best  I  can. 

"  Sincerely  yours, 

"JESSAMINE  HOLLAND." 

The  little  note  made  Mrs.  Kent  the  happiest  of  women 
for  that  day.  She  was  an  impulsive  little  thing;  and 
when  Jessamine's  letter  reached  her,  she  was  sitting 
playing  with  her  baby,  who  had  just  been  brought  in, 
fresh  from  his  bath,  in  snowy  cambric  and  faces  ;  the  small, 
fluttering  hands,  the  sweet  baby  face,  Avith  its  mother's 
wide,  innocent  eyes,  the  pink  cheeks  and  the  scarlet  mouth, 
making  a  prettier  sight  than  any  of  the  pictures  on  the 
wall. 

Richard  Kent,  sitting  in  his  arm-chair  in  his  flowered 
dressing-gown,  was  thinking  just  the  same  thing  as  he 
watched  the  young  mother  frolic  with  her  baby  on  the  rug, 
and  hold  a  glittering  rattle-box  just  above  the  child,  who 
crowed,  and  laughed,  and  stretched  his  little,  dimpled 
hands  after  the  toy. 

Richard  Kent  was  a  bluff,  square-shouldered,  well- 
featured  man,  with  heavy  figure,  and  shambling  gait,  and 
iron-gray  hair ;  but  it  was  all  the  same,  so  long  as  he 
looked  handsomer  than  any  living  man  in  the  eyes  of  the 
one  little  woman  in  the  world  for  whom  he  really  cared. 

The  toy  dropped  suddenly  into  the  lap  of  the  baby  as 
his  mother  seized  the  note,  which  a  servant  had  just 
brought  in,  and,  tearing  it  open,  Mrs.  Kent  gathered  out 
the  meaning.  She  was  off  her  feet  in  an  instant,  dancing 
half  across  the  room  in  her-  delight.  . 

"  0  Dick,  she's  really  coming  !  " 


THE  HOLLANDS.  213 

Mr.  Kent  thought  his  wife  had  the  prettiest  little  airs 
and  graces  imaginable.  Whatever  she  did  was  perfect  in 
his  eyes ;  and  though  the  man  had  been  brought  to  give 
his  consent  to  this  project  of  study,  he  had  done  it  with 
just  that  sort  of  feeling  with  which  one  gratifies  any 
pretty  little  whim  of  a  child's,  looking  at  the  whole 
matter  in  that  strong,  commonplace  daylight  which  had 
served  him  so  well  in  the  world,  and  in  which  he  regard- 
ed everything  not  connected  with  his  wife  and  baby. 

"  Let  me  see  the  letter,  child,"  he  said,  thinking  that, 
now  the  thing  was  really  settled,  this  receiving  an  entire 
stranger  on  so  intimate  a  footing  in  their  household  for  a 
whole  year  might  not  be  just  the  agreeable  thing  his 
wife  fancied. 

So  with  a  good  deal  of  empressement  Mrs.  Kent  brought 
her  husband  the  letter.  He  read  it,  scanning  the  hand 
and  the  words  closely,  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  doing 
some  new  endorsement  of  a  note. 

'"I  like  the  looks  of  that,1'  he  said,  at  last.  "  Sensible 
young  woman  this ;  no  flourishes  nor  affectations  there ; 
but  fine,  strong,  and  clear.  Then  there's  no  unnecessary 
words,  no  going  about  the  thing ;  but  brief,  and  to  the 
point;  I  don't,  however,  quite  like  this  idea  of  having  some- 
body round  all  the  time ;  a  man  wants  to  feel  that  his 
home  is  his  own  to  do  just  what  he  has  a  mind  to  in  it ;  and 
this  Miss  —  what  you  call  it  —  " 

"  Miss  Holland,  Dick  ;  now  do  remember." 
"This  Miss  Holland  may  sometimes  be  in  the*  way." 
"  0  Dick,  if  you  should  see  her  you'd  never  say  that. 
She'll  never  intrude  herself  on  us.     I  know  you'll  like 


214  THE  HOLLANDS. 

her;  and  I  am  so  anxious  to  kave  her  come  at  once,  and 
make  the  first  -plunge  into  our  studies." 

"I  don't  see  what  you  want  to  bother  your  pretty 
head  about  them  things,  child.  As  though  you  weren't 
wise  enough  and  bright  enough  by  nature.  These  fool- 
ish women  have  put  this  notion  into  your  brain,  when  I'd 
match  you  against  the  whole  of  them  for  native  wit  and 
brightness." 

"Ah,  but,  Dick,  you  dear  old  fellow,  you've  no  idea 
how  fearfully  ignorant  I  am.  I'm  dreadfully  ashamed 
of  myself  when  I  am  thrown  amongst  people  who  have 
had  a  chance  in  the  world.  I  hardly  dare  open  my 
lips  to  say  a  word,  lest  I  should  let  something  wrong 
fall,  and  they  will  make  sport  of  me." 

"Let  them  do  it  if  they  dare,"  growled  Richard 
Kent. 

"Ah,  but — I  suppose  a  man  cannot  understand  it; 
but  real,  well-bred  ladies  sometimes  do  these  things,  and 
it  is  very  humiliating;"  her-voice  shaking  a  little. 

"  Have  they  been  troubling  my  little  bird  ?  "  said  the 
large,  coarse  man,  with  a  voice  as  tender  and  pitiful  as  a 
woman's.  "  She  was  made  for  nothing  in  the  world  but 
to  sing  among  the  leaves  in  the  sunshine,  and  they  better 
let  her  alone.  Nobody's  going  to  vex  my  darling.  I 
hold,  through  their  husbands  and  fathers,  more  of  these 
fine  ladies  .in  my  power  than  you  suspect,  or  they 
either." 

Mrs.  Kent  rose  up,  and  came  to  her  husband,  and  ran 
her  fingers  through  the  thick,  iron-gray  hair.  "  Dick," 
she  said,  earnestly,  "you  are  the  best  man  in  the  whole 


THE  HOLLANDS.  215 

world.  I  do  not  believe  there  was  ever  another  with  such 
a  big  heart  as  yours,  or  ever  will  be  another  afterward. 
You  took  the  little  factory  girl,  with  all  her  defects  and 
ignorance,  and  set  her  in  the  midst  of  all  your  wealth  and 
splendor,  and  there  you  keep  her  like  a  crowned  queen, 
and  will  not  see  a  fault  in  her.  But  she  grows  more 
conscious  of  them  all  the  time,  and  one  of  these  days, 
when  I  am  no  longer  your  little  girl-wife,  and  our  boy 
has  grown  above  my  head,  I  want  to  be  something  that 
he  and  his  father  may  be  proud  of." 

"No  danger  but  what  we  shall  be  all  that;"  the 
shrewd  eyes  looking  with  fond  tenderness  on  the  pretty 
creature  before  him. 

"  Ah,  yes;  but  not  wholly  because  I  am  bright  and 
pretty,  or  all  those  things  you  think  me,  but  because  I 
am  a  sensible,  and  thoughtful.-  cultured  woman ;  that  is 
what  I  want  to  be  some  of  these  days,  for  your  sakes,  my 
husband  and  my  child." 

'  Richard  Kent  began  to  discern  there  was  some'  latent 
strength  and  energy  which  he  had  not  suspected  in  the 
little  factory  girl  he  had  taken  to  wife.  He  was  amused, 
impressed,  and  the  practical  man  was  half  convinced  there 
was  something  in  this  reasoning,  after  all,  and  something 
more  in  his  wife's  plan  than  a  pretty,  romantic  notion, 
which  in  the  end  would  come  to  nothing ;  but  then  it  was 
best  to  indulge  her  until  she  got  tired  of  it. 

So  it  was  settled  that  they  should  ride  over  to  the 
Walbridges,  and  prevail  upon  Jessamine  to  appoint  the 
earliest  day  possible  for  her  entrance  into  their  family, 
although  Richard  Kent  could  not  get  over  his  notion  that 


216  THE  HOLLANDS. 

she  was  a  book-worm,  and  the  man  had  a  horror  of 
such. 

Meanwhile,  Jessamine  began  to  feel  that  it  was  high 
time  she  announced  to  the  family  her  intention  of  going 
to  the  Kents.  There  was  no  need  that  the  fornler  should 
know  anything  beyond  the  fact  that  she  accepted  an  invita- 
tion to  visit  the  others.  The  whole  matter  wastto  affair  of 

• 

the  Walbridges,  and  she  shrank  from  the  thought  of  their 
coolly  discussing  Mrs.  Kent's,  secret.  No  doubt  they 
would  be  surprised  ;  but  they  would  have  no  motive  to  ob- 
ject to  the  visit,  even  if  they  had  any  right  to  control  her 
movements. 

But  Duke  was  not  included  in  his  family.  He  had 
been  her. friend,  in  no  ordinary  .way;  he  had  pledged 
himself  to  stand  in  Ross'  stead  to  the  lonely  orphan  sis- 
ter ;  and  she  felt  that  she  owed  him  some  explanation  of 
the  circumstances  which  had  cfetermined  her  acceptance  • 
of  Mrs.  Kent's  invitation.  Since  Margaret  Wheatley's 
advent,  Jessanyne  had  fewer  opportunities  than  formerly 
of  any  private  talk  with  her  young  host.  But  one 
occurred  one  evening,  two  or  three  days  after  her  decision 
had  been  formed,  when  Duke  returned  early  in  the  after- 
noon and  found  Jessamine  alone  in  the  library  with  some 
book,  whose  attraction  had  proved  strong  enough  to 
keep  her  from  accompanying  the  other  ladies  down 
town. 

Seizing  her  chance,  when  he  came  and  sat  down  by  the 
table  near  herself,  Jessamine  related  the  whole  story  of 
her  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Kent,  adding  only,  "It  is 
her  secret  and  mine.  Everybody  else  will  suppose,  at 


THE  HOLLANDS.  217 

the  first,  at  least,  that  I  go  there  as  her  guest;  for, 
though  I  could  have  no  possible  objection  to  the  world's 
knowing  my  relations  in  the  household,  the  lady  herself 
does  not  want  cold  and  cynical  people  laughing  over  her 
first  attempts  at  geography  and  arithmetic ;  though,  after 
all,  if  I  were  in  her  place,  I  should .  hardly  care  what 
people  might  say  of  me." 

"That  is  right,  Miss  Jessamine.  We  only  learn  how 
to  live  when  we  possess  our  soul  in  some  serene  climate 
where  the  buzz  and  tumult  of  what  people  may  say  can 
never  reach  us.  Yet,  I  can  understand  Mrs.  Kent's 
feelings,  and  her  secret  will  of  course  be  sacred.1' 

"  I  am  a  little  uneasy  as  to  what  Ross  may  think  of 
it  all,"  she  went  on  to  say.  "  I  wish  you  would  do  me 
the  favor  to  write  him  that  you,  knowing  all  the  circum- 
stances, approve  of  what  I  have  done." 

A  curious  smile  came  over  his  face.  He  looked 
at  the  girl.  "I  have  not  said  that,  Miss  Jessa- 
mine." ' 

"Ah,  but  you  would  if  you  knew  all.  It  will  be  so 
much  better  than  going  back  to  the  old,  lonely  life  at 
Hannah  Bray's.  Then,  too,  I  shall  be  doing  some  little 
work  in  the  world,  and  that  will  give  me  strength  and 
courage." 

"  I  never  thought  of  your  going  back  to  Hannah 
Bray's,  Miss  Jessamine.  Such  a  thing  is  not  to  be  so 
much  as  named.  But  I  had  expected  that  you  would 
remain  with  us  until  Ross  returned.  You  seem  to  have 
grown  quite  into  one  of  the  family.  1  do  not  see  how  we 
are  to  get  on  without  you." 

19 


218  THE  HOLLANDS. 

She  looked  up  with  her  bright,  grateful  smile.  "I 
have  grown  uneasy  of  late  over  the  length  of  my  visit. 
I  should  have  returned  home  in  a  week  or  two,  if — if 
nothing  better  had  opened." 

Duke  rose  up  and  paced  the  room.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  all  the  light  and  life  of  his  elegant  home  would  go 
out  when  this  quiet  little  girl  went  over  his  threshold. 
He  stopped  suddenly ;  he  bent  over  her. 

"Jessamine,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  but  it  seemed 
to  the  girl  that  it  had  the  strength  and  rumble  of 
distant  thunder,  "I  wish  you  would  not  go  away  from 
us." 

"0  Duke,  it  is  best  —  I  could  not  be  happy  — 
staying  any  longer,"  she  faltered,  hardly  knowing  in  her 
confusion  whether  the  words  answered  his  speech  or 
not. 

"  Not  happy  with  us !  0  Jessamine,  your  words 
hurt  me  cruelly  !  " 

She  looked  up  quickly  now ;  a  tender  shining  filled 
the  wide  gray  darkness  of  his  eyes.  He  laid  his  hand 
on  her  shoulder,  and  she  felt  the  strong  youth's  tremor 
through  every  fine  pulse  of  her  being. 

Just  then  there  was  a  hurrying  of  feet  in  the  hall  be- 
low. The  people  had  returned  home.  There  would  be 
a  burst  into  the  library  with  the  next  moment.  With  a 
strong  instinct  to  escape,  Jessamine  hurried  out  of  a  side 
door  and  up  to  her  own  room.  Her  face  hot,  her  pulses 
quivering,  she  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears.  Yet  it 
was  such  delicious*  weeping  that  she  would"  have  been 
glad  had  it  lasted  forever.  There  was  a  great  tremulous 


THE  HOLLANDS.  219 

light  and  happiness  at  her  heart,  and,  like  the  ringing 
of  bells,  filling  with  musical  chimes,  some  May  morn- 
ing, all  dew,  and  perfume,  and  shining,  rang  the  tones 
rather  than  the  words  of  Duke  Walbridge  in  her 
ear. 

Yet,  with  maidenly  shrinking,  she  tried  to  shut  her 
eyes  to  the  feeling  which  lay  far  down  in  the  limpid 
words  and  tones,  and  gave  them  their  real  worth  and 
meaning,  —  getting  up  and  bathing  her  hot  cheeks  and 
trembling  fingers,  and  chiding  herself  for  being  such  a 
little  fool  as  to  be  so  happy. 

Jessamine's  announcement  that  she  was  to  visit  the 
Rents  created  a  fresh  sensation  in  the  Walbridge  family. 
To  some  members  of  it,  no  doubt,  this  appeared  a  most 
agreeable  way  of  getting  rid  of  a  guest  whose  pres- 
ence might  frustrate  their  dearly  cherished  plans. 

Still  the  regrets  were  manifold  and  polite,  and  on  the 
part  of  Eva  and  her  next  elder  sister,  Kate,  were,  no 
doubt,  sincere ;  but  Gertrude  entered  too  warmly  into 
her  mother's  and  elder  sister's  plans  not  to  sympathize 
with  their  feeling  regarding  Jessamine's  further  stay 
among  them. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kent  came  around  to  expedite  Jessa- 
mine's removal  with  all  the  arguments  and  entreaties  in 
their  power,  and  the  former  had  a  golden  pass-key  to  the 
Walbridges,  which  it  seemed  the  grim  stone  warders  on 
each  side  of  the  front  door  instinctively  comprehended 
and  honored. 

So  there  was  a  great  deal  of  complimentary  talk  about 
the  Kents  making  a  sudden  raid,  and  stealing  their  guest 


220  THE  HOLLANDS. 

away,  and  their  reluctance  to  letting  her  go,  on  the  part 
of  the  Walbridges  ;  but  for  all  that  Mrs.  Kent  maintained 
and  carried  her  point,  which  was,  that  Jessamine  should 
join  them  with  small  delay. 

"Anyhow,  it  won't  be  as  though  you  were  going  off 
home.  We  can  come  to  see  you  every  day  or  two,  can't 
we,  Duke?  "  said  Eva,  hovering  between  her  guest  and 
her  brother,  and  addressing  both  after  the  Kents  had 
left. 

Duke  had  not  been  present  during  their  call,  but  his 
sister  had  related  its  result  to  him. 

Margaret  Wheatley,  who  stood  near,  answered  for 
him:  — 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  persist  in  running  away  from  us, 
Miss  Holland,  we  will  take  our  revenge  by  running  after 
you ;  so  you  will  not  easily  get  rid  of  us." 

The  young  heiress  was,  after  all,  not  quite  certain 
whether  she  was  sorry,  or  not,  that  Jessamine  Holland 
was  going  away.  She  liked  the  girl,  to  use  her  own 
term,  immensely.  There  was  something  fresh,  piquant, 
original,  about  all  which  Jessamine  said  and  did,  which 
had  a  fine  flavor  to  the  tastes  of  the  city  girl,  tired  and 
sated  with  the  commonplace,  fashionable  type. 

Still,  in  a  subtle  way,  Mrs.  Ashburn's  and  the  Wai- 
bridges'  influence  had  been  at  work  with  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley.  She  had  begun  to  think  that  it  would  be  very  nice 
to  have  Duke  fall  in  love  with  her;  that  it  was  somehow 
qui|e  his  duty  to  do  it,  and  that  Jessamine  Holland  might 
possibly  stand  in  the  way  of  such  an  agreeable  consum- 
mation of  affairs. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  221 

"I  never  could,  of  course,  fall  in  love  first,"  languid- 
ly mused  the  young  heiress;  "but  I  do  believe  I  like 
Duke  Walbridge  better  than  any  other  man  I  ever  saw'. 
He's  odd,  and  moody,  and  incomprehensible;  but  all  that 
only  makes  him  more  interesting." 

" Mamma,"  said  Gertrude,  "it's  the  oddest  thing  that 
the  Kents  should  take  such  a  violent  fancy  to  Miss  Hol- 
land. What  do  you  suppose  it  means? " 

"  The  solemn  riddle  is  plain  enough  to  me,"  answered 
Edith.  "It  all  comes  of  Miss  Holland's  setting  Mrs. 
Kent  right,  when  the  lady  made  that  ridiculous  blunder 
at  the  lunch-party  over  Dante,  the  ancient  Greek  author. 
I  wouldn't  at  all  wonder  if  the  two  had  entered  into 
some  nice  little  compact,  whereby  Mrs.  Kent  should  be 
inducted  into  the  first  rudiments  of  the  English  language, 
with  Miss  Holland  for  professor.  *  At  all  events,  it  is  a 
very  comfortable  way  of  getting  rid  of  the  young  lady 
at  just  this  crisis.  I  am  heartily  obliged  to  Mrs. 
•Kent." 

"  Edith,  I  do  not  quite  like  to  hear  you  talk  so.  There 
are  some  thoughts  one  had  better  keep  to  themselves," 
admonished  her  mother. 

' '  I  wonder  if  it  is  any  worse  to  have  the  thoughts 
than  to  tell  them,  mamma,"  laughed  the  young  lady. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  Edith  Walbridge  was  shrewd 
and  brilliant,  and  that  her  talent  for  intrigue  once  aroused, 
it  would  be  difficult  to  circumvent  her. 

"  There,  Dick,  didn't  I  tell  you  you'd  like  her?  "  said 
Mrs.  Kent,  nestling  up  to  her  husband,  as  they*  drove 
home.  "I  am  so  delighted  that  she  is  coming  to  us  so 


222  THE  HOLLANDS. 

soon,  though  I  don't  wonder  those  people  are  reluctant 
to  let  her  go." 

"  Nonsense,"  answered  the  shrewd,  practical  man. 
"  A  great  deal  of  that  talk  was  on  the  surface.  I  could 
see  down  deep  enough  into  it,  to  find  the  hollo  wness 
under  all  the  fine  words.  I  miss  my  guess  if  some  of 
them  don't  feel  glad  to  let  her  take  another  berth.  There's 
a  young  man  in 'the  family — seen  him  in  the  father's 
office,  shrewd,  good-hearted  fellow — real  stuff  about 
him.  I  shouldn't  wonder  now,  if  some  of  the  family 
had  an  eye  out  for  him.  Well,  thank  the  Lord,  my  little 
wild-flower  is  not  a  fine  lady." 

So  the  changes  rung. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  223 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Six  months  have  come  and  gone  since  Jessamine  Hol- 
land first  entered  the  household  of  the  Kents.  These 
months  have  formed  on  the  whole  the  smoothest,  happiest 
half  year  of  her  life.  It  is  the  spring-time  of  her  youth, 
the  bloom,  the  dew,  the  sunshine  of  the  late  May,  for  it 
is  four  autumns  since  Ross  left  her,  and  the  gate  of  her 
teens  closed  softly  some  time  ago,  and  Jessamine  is  near 
to  her  twenty-second  birthday.  • 

Yet  to  most  young  girls  the  change  from  the  Wai- 
bridges  to  the  Kents  would,  have  presented  some  contrasts 
hardly  agreeable.  There  was  much  less  social  excite- 
ment in  the  latter  home,  and  whereas  Jessamine  had  had 
her  mornings  for  calls  abroad  or  receptions  at  home,  in- 
terfused with  all  those  pleasant  stimulants  of  talk  and 
merriment  which  enter  far  into  the  life  of  fashionable 
ladies,  she  now  had  one  unvarying  routine  of  teaching, 
not  of  that  sort  either  which  would  have  inspired  and  fed 
her  own  faculties,  but  the  primary  rules  and  first  princi- 
ples, and,  if  the  facts  must  be  admitted,  they  often  proved 
slow  drudgery  to  both  teacher  and  pupil. 

The  mornings  were  religiously  devoted  to  study.  "  If 
it  is  worth  doing  at  all,  it  is  worth  doing  well,"  said  Jes- 

• 


224  THE  HOLLANDS. 

samine.  "  We  will  give  to  it  the  best  of  the  day,  and 
earn  our  ease  and  pleasure  afterward."  So  all  company, 
all  recreation,  had  to  bend  to  this  rule,  but  for  all  that  it 
was  hard  work  to  the  young  souls  Avho  brought  to  it 
whatever  mental  or  moral  forces  were  in  them.  Jessa- 
mine had  daily  reason  for  thankfulness  that  she  had  gone 
over  the  ground  step  by  step,  .with  ' '  little  help  ;  that  in 
her  studies  she  had  been  a  law  to  herself."  She  knew 
all  the  lions  in  the  path,  and  learned  also,  what  was 
most  important  for  her,  that  riches  and  prosperity  are 
often  a  greater  hindrance  to  study  and  discipline  than 
poverty  and  hardship. 

As  for  Mrs.  Kent,  the  patience  and  courage  of  the 
poor  little  woman  failed  her  often.  She  had  no  idea  that 
study  was  such  tiresome  work  as  she  found  it,  and  if  the 
truth  must  be  owned,  she  broke  down  a  good  many  times, 
and  cried  like  a  school-girl  over  the  conjugation  of  a 
verb,  or  an  example  in  long  division.  There  were  times 
when  she  would  have  been  heartily  glad  of  some  excuse 
which  would  have  justified  her  to  herself  in  giving  up  the 
whole  thing,  but  her  pride,  and,  better  than  that,  some 
sense  of  duty,  kept  her  from  yielding  to  the  inclina- 
tion. 

If  she  had  had  any  other  teacher  in  the  world  than  Jes- 
samine Holland,  Mrs.  Kent  would  never  have  persisted 
in  her  purpose  ;  but  the  former  learned  that,  added  to 
her  duties  of  instructress,  she  had  to  soothe,  to  encour- 
age, to  inspire  her  pupil,  and  it  required  sometimes  a 
large  stock  of  patience  to  accomplish  all  this.  The  dis- 
cipline would  do  Jessamine  no  harm  in  the  end ;  on  the 
« 


THE  HOLLANDS.  225 

contrary,  real  service;  but  for  all* that  it  was  trying 
sometimes  when  Mrs.  Kent  broke  down  in  nervousness 
and  tears. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at.  We  all  have  to  pay  a 
terrible  price  for  intellectual  improvidence  in  our  youth, 
whether  the  fault  be  ours  or  others,  and  the  motive  which 
had  inspired  Mrs.  Kent's  purpose  of  self-culture  was  one 
that  certainly  did  her  great  honor;  but  purpose  and 
achievement  are  two  different  things,  and  the  daily 
drudgery  of  any  grand  work  is  never  heroic.  Just  look 
about  among  the  people  whom  you  know,  and  see  how 
many  women  there  are  whom  you  honestly  believe  would 
be  equal  to  this  work,  which  Mrs.  Kent  had  set  herself 
to  do  ! 

But  there  was  another  side  to  this  study,  and  the 
friendship  between  these  two  young  women,  so  singu- 
larly brought  together,  took  deep  root  in  their  natures. 
Neither  had  ever  known  the  worth  and  the  happiness  of 
a  true  friendship,  and,  without  that  experience,  either  as 
a  blessed  reality  oc.  a  tender  memory,  any  woman's  life  is 
barren  of  something  which  neither  matrimony  nor  ma- 
ternity can  supply. 

Each  of  the  friends  had  much  to  give  the  other,  and 
every  day  each  also  seemed  to  grow  fonder  of  the  other. 
In  fact,  Richard  Kent  used  often  to  declare,  in  his  good- 
natured,  humorous  way,  that  he  was  getting  jealous  of 
his  wife's  regard  for  Miss  Holland ;  it  was  putting  his 
"nose  so  terribly  out  of  joint." 

The  man  was  just  as  ready  to  indulge  his  wife's  "no- 
tion for  study  "  as  he  would  have  been  her  liking  for  a 


226  THE  HOLLANDS. 

new  set  of  jewelry  ,*and  classed  them  both  in  the  same 
category,  as  a  pretty  little  feminine  freak. 

All  the  drudgery  was  wisely  hidden  from  his  eyes  by 
both  pupil  and  teacher,  for  if  he  had  known  all  the  sore 
perplexities  which  his  wife  underwent  in  carrying  out  her 
purpose,  the  man  would  not  have  been  so  complacent 
over  it ;  he  would  have  said,  very  decidedly,  "  Throw 
books  to  the  dogs.  You're  smart  enough  for  me,  child, 
and  that  is  all  that's  necessary."  Not  that  Mrs.  Kent 
would  have  regarded  any  such  dictum  as  unalterable,  for 
her  husband  was  no  petty  domestic  tyrant,  and  in  one 
way  or  another  she  would  have  been  sure  to  carry  her 
point. 

But  it  was  better  that  the  worries  and  anxieties  should 
be  kept  between  the  friends ;  and  this  was  not  difficult 
when  the  master  of  the  house  was  absent  every  morning 
during  study  hours,  and  found  bright  young  faces  ready 
to  greet  him  at  dinner. 

Jessamine  Holland  was  an  element  of  life,  force,  and 
refinement  in  the  household,  which,  in  many  ways,  was 
just  what  it  needed.  Its  master  was  quite  contented 
that  she  should  be  there,  and,  indeed,  liked  her  better 
than  any  woman  he  had  ever  seen,  except  his  wife  ;  for 
Richard  Kent,  after  his  life  of  tumbling  about  the  world, 
had  not  the  highest  opinion  of  women  in  general,  and 
regarded  them  as  usually  a  compound  of  nerves,  whims, 
and  affectations. 

Such  an  opinion  never  makes  a  man  better  or  nobler  ; 
it  is  always  a  misfortune  to  him  to  hold  it ;  still  the  be- 
lief did  Richard  Kent  as  little  mischief  as  it  could  any 

- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  227 

man.  His  wife,  at  least,  had  the  benefit  of  his  opinion, 
in  that  he  regarded  all  her  virtues  and  sweetness  as 
altogether  exceptional ;  and  this  made  the  man,  if  possible, 
a  little  more  self-complacent  than  ever  over  his  own 
choice. 

Jessamine  Holland  liked  to  talk  with  her  host,  for  she 
had,  with  her  bright  intelligence  and  quick  sympathies, 
a  remarkable  power  of  getting  at  the  best  side  of  every- 
body. She  liked,  too,  to  look  at  the  world  through  the 
eyes  of  this  man.  It  was  not  at  all  like  talking  with 
Duke  Walbridge.  Richard  Kent  had  none  of  the  fine 
nature  of  her  brother  or  her  friend,  and  his  coarseness 
sometimes  shocked  the  young  girl,  who,  bred  in  poverty, 
had  always  been  accustomed  to  inbred  refinement  of 
speech  and  manner ;  but,  for  all  that,  though  Jessamine 
missed  something  from  the  Walbridge  household,  which 
people  of  social  culture  possess,  though  brain  and  heart 
are  shallow,  yet,  on  the  whole,  the  freedom  and  the  in- 
dependence of  her  present  home  had  its  advantages. 
She  could  be  certain  that  here  she  was  giving  quite  as 
much  as  she  received,  and  she  had  never  any  uncomfort- 
able consciousness  that  she  was  the  subject  of  a  half-pat- 
ronizing criticism,  and  Jessamine  did  not  know  how 
heavily  this  feeling  had  weighed  upon  her  until  she  was 
quite  free  from  it.  Her  brother's  deed  could  not  wholly 
cancel  the  debt  which  she  owed  to  the  Walbridges'  hos- 
pitality, nor  a  dread  at  the  last  lest  this  might  become  a 
little  irksome.  She  missed  Duke's  society  more  than 
she  would  own  to  herself,  but  then  she  had  been  looking 
Hannah  Bray's  in  the  face  ;  and  as  for  Eva,  though  she 


228  THE  HOLLANDS. 

must  always  love  the  child'  dearly,  still,  in  a,  different 
way,  Mrs.  Kent  made  up  for  that  loss. 

Sometimes  Jessamine  Holland's  memory  caught  up 
suddenly  the  look  that  blazed  in  Duke's  eyes,  and  the 
tones  of  his  voice  that  afternoon  in  the  library ;  but  her 
heart  always  grew  loud  and  her  cheeks  hot  when  she 
remembered  that  time.  She  dared  not  think  upon  it; 
she  put  it  away,  with  a  frightened  consciousness  that 
there  was  a  great,  unfathomable  ocean  in  her  own  soul 
into  wnich  she  dared  not  gaze  ;  a  mighty  passion  of  love, 
self-forgetfulness,  devotion,  of  which  every  true  woman 
has  at  some  time  of  her  life  some  awful  prescience.  But, 
with  all  her  courage,  Jessamine  Holland  shrank  terrified 
from  that  side  of  herself,  —  would  not  let  it  stir  into  life 
and  consciousness. 

There  was  ajiother  moment  of  which  she  could  never 
think,  though  its  memory  came  up  sometimes  and 
clutched  at  her  soul,  and  choked  her  breath ;  it  was  the 
moment  when  she  came  to  say  "Good-by"  to  Duke 
Walbridge.  She  had  parted  with  all  the  rest  of  his 
family  cordially  and  easily  enough ;  when.it  came  to  Eva, 
it  is  ^true,  tjiere  was  a  keen  regret ;  but  as  Duke  accom- 
panied her  to  Mr.  Kent's  carriage,  and  said,  "  You  will 
allow  me  to  ride  over  with  you,  Miss  Jessamine?"  a 
sudden  terror  of  grief  overpowered  the  girl. 

"No;  not  to-night,"  her  answer  struggled  out. 
"Thank  you;  but — but,  there  is  a  reason;  do  not  be 
offended." 

Duke  fancied,  in  a  vague  way,  she  was  sorry  at  leav- 
ing them  all,  and  was  too  much  absorbed  with  his  own 


THE  HOLLANDS.  229 

pain  at  that  moment  to  give  much  heed  to  Jessamine's 
manner;  he  only  closed  the  door,  and  said  "  Good-by," 
as  a  prisoner  might  have  said  it,  going  back  from  the 
warm  light  of  some  beloved  face  into  the  cold,  dark  gloom 
of  his  cell ;  and  it  was  the  truth,  that. his  elegant  home, 
with  the  stone  lions  in  front,  looked  very  much  like  a 
prison  when  he  turned  back  toward  it,  listening  to  the 
sound  of  the  wheels  that  were  bearing  away  the  warmth 
and  life  of  his  life ;  and  yet  Jessamine  Holland  was  only 
going  away  three  miles,  and  he  could  see  her  every  few 
days. 

The  rest  of  the  household,  including  Mrs.  Ashburn 
and  her  niece,  stood  on  the  steps  to  witness  Jessamine's 
departure.  The  Walbridges  had  been  polite  to  the  last ; 
indeed,  they  had  made  renewed  attempts  at  cordiality  as 
the  time  drew  near  for  Jessamine  to  leave  them. 

Still,  notwithstanding  all  the  parting  regrets,  there 
was  a  long  breath  of  relief  drawn  by  more  than  one  of 
the  company  assembled  on  the  steps  when  Jessamine 
Holland  rolled  away  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kent.  •  It  would 
certainly  have  been  a  much  more  satisfactory  finale  if 
the  visit  had  concluded  with  a  grand  display  of  bridal 
ceremonies  and  graces,  and  these  wound  up  with  charm- 
ing blushes  and  tears,  and  impressive  partings,  and  an 
attractive  honeymoon  programme. 

That  this  was  not  the  case  was  not  her  fault,  Mrs. 
"Walbridge  philosophically  reflected.  She  certainly  had 
wished  the  young  girl  every  good  in  life,  and  was  more 
than  ready  to  use  all  her  influence  to  promote  Miss  Hol- 
land's welfare ;  but  as  a  mother,  to  whose  heart  the  hap- 


230  THE  HOLLANDS. 

piness  of  her  only  son  was  dearer  than  her  own,  she 
could  not  help  feeling  a  sense  of  relief  that  there  was 
now  no  other  element  in  the  household  to  neutralize  the 
effect  of  Margaret  Wheatley's  society  on  the  young  man. 
So  Mrs.  Walbridge  put  the  whole  matter  to  her  own 
soul,  and  it  gave  her  a  very  pleasant  feeling  of  self-justi- 
fication. 

Under  one  pretence  and  another,  therefore,  the  ladies' 
visit. was  prolonged  by  the  Walbridges,  and  Duke,  his 
soul  restless,  lonely,  hungry,  was  fain  to  turn  to  Mar- 
garet for  the  amusement  which  her  sparkling  talk  always 
afforded  him,  and  the  young  heiress  found  Duke  Wai-     ' 
bridge,  as  she  confided  to  her  aunt,  more  agreeable  than 
any  of  her    New    York    admirers.     He   was    peculiar 
and  obstinate,  — one  was  never  quite  certain  of  this  Duke 
Walbridge,  — but  that  only  made  him  the  more  attrac-" 
tive  after  all. 

There  was  a  straight  path  open  to  the  money-bags  of 
the  rich  banker,  if  Duke  would  only  turn  into  it. 
"  What  a  fool  he  will  be  to  let  such  good  luck  slip !  " 
said  Edith,  with  angry  impatience,  to  her  mother ;  and 
Mrs.  Walbridge's  soul  echoed  back  the  words,  if  her  lips 
did  not,  —  "  What  a  fool !" 

Meanwhile  there  was  no  lack  of  visiting  at  the  Kents. 
Duke  went  over  oftener  than  his  mother  wished;  still 
Eva  or  some  other  of  his  sisters  frequently  accompanied 
him.  Sometimes,  too,  Margaret  Wheatley  rode  over 
with  the  young  man,  and  she  was  even  gracious  enough 
to  say  to  Duke  that  she  could  never  forgive  Mrs.  Kent 
for  taking  that  charming  Miss  Holland  away  from  them. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  231 

The  young  lady's  visit  was,  however,  cut  short,  great- 
ly to  everybody's  vexation,  by  the  sudden  illness  of  her 
fattier,  which  compelled  her  immediate  return  home  with 
her  aunt. 

The  Walbridges,  however,  secured  their  arrangements 
for  the  summer,  and  had  laid  out  a  most  attractive  pro- 
gramme of  watering  places  and  mountain ,  trips.  It  all 
came  to  pass  as  they  anticipated.  Everybody  had  a 
delightful  season,  fluttering  about  from  one  fashionable 
haunt  to  another ;  but  when  the  autumn  came,  the  old 
friendly  relations  hardly  seemed  changed  betwixt  Duke 
Walbridge  and  Margaret  Wheatley. 

0  money-bags  of  the  banker !  And  there  were  so 
many  sons-in-law  at  hand  for  you,  and  here  was  one  who 
might  have  the  gold  for  the  asking  ! 

So,  as  I  said,  the  six  months  have  come  and  gone,  and 
Jessamine  Holland  sits  in  the  pleasant  autumn  afternoon, 
in  the  library,  with  Mrs.  Kent.  Any  watchful  observer 
wbuld  detect  the  change  which  these  six  months  have 
wrought  in  the  young  matron.  It  penetrates  even  the 
tones  of  her  voice ;  it  has  imparted  a  new  maturity  and 
refinement  to  the  young,  bright  face.  She  has  made  up 
her  mind  a  great  many  times  during  the  last  half  year 
that  she  is  only  a  very  stupid  little  fool,  and-  that  there  is 
no  use  of  her  trying  to  make  anything  of  herself. 

In  some  of  her  despondent  moods  $he  would  have  been 
very  glad  to  have  Jessamine  Holland  think  the  same, 
though  in  her  clearer  and  higher  ones  she  has  an  inex- 
pressible joy  in  the  consciousness  that  she  has  not  ignobly 
broken  down,  as  she  knows  must  have  been  the  case  over 


232  THE  HOLLANDS. 

and  over  again,  had  it  not  been  for  the  patience  and  per- 
sistence of  her  young  teacher. 

The  windows  were  open,  and  soft  winds  slid  through 
them;  you  could  hear  the  hum  of  the  brook  through  the 
golden  stillness.  The  earth  lay  in  that  trance  of  beauty 
which  possesses  her  in  the  late  September.  Into  those 
soft  west  winds  it  did  not  seem  that  a  chill  could  ever 
wander,  or  that  vision  of  blue  sky  ever  be  marred  by 
a  cloud. 

There  was  no  use  trying  to  read.  Jessamine  laid  down 
her  book  and  walked  to  the  window,  and  looked  out. 
Mrs.  Kent,  a  little  way  off,  frolicked  with  the  bit  of  pink 
and  white  flesh  on  the  floor. 

Suddenly  she  looked  up-.  "What  are  you  thinking 
about,  Miss  Jessamine  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Of  what  God  said  over  his  world  when  he  first 
made  it,  that  it  was  good.  It  is  a  world  to  fall  in  love 
with  to-day,  and  though  in  a  little  while  I  know  it  will 
grow  cold  and  bare  and  withered,  still,  through  the 
storms  and  the  snows  that  are  coming  I  shall  carry  a 
vision  of  the  beauty  and  splendor  of  this  hour ;  and  they 
will  abide  with  me." 

"Aunt  Dess,  Aunt  Dess,  see  here!"  and  the  boy 
tottered  toward  her,  holding  up  a  knight  in  armor  on 
horseback,  which  his  father  had  brought  him  home  that 
day,  —  a  pretty,  fragile,  painted  toy. 

Jessamine  had  a  passionate  fondness  for  children.  She 
caught  up  the  little  fellow  in  her  arms,  and  smothered 
the  sweet,  dewy  face  with  her  kisses,  and  the  young  mother 
looked  on  with  her  smiling  eyes.  "You  are  a  tuberose, 


THE  HOLLANDS.  233 

you  are  a  violet,  you  are  a  lily ;  you  are  just  the  concen- 
trated sweetness  and  beauty  of  all  flowers,"  went  on  Jes- 
samine to  the  boy. 

"You  are  an  exacting  little  tyrant,"  laughed  the 
mother.  ' '  You  make  all  the  household  bend  to  your 
tempers  and  whims.  There's  your  father  now,  —  you 
just  lead  him  around  by  the  nose  and  make  a  bound 
slave  of  him,  only  he  does  not  see  the  chains.  He  thinks 
he  can't  come  home  to  dinner  without  bringing  you  a  toy, 
until  the  house  is  strewn  with  the  wrecks  of  your  play- 
things. Ah  !  my  boy,  your  mother's  play-house  consisted 
of  a  rag-baby  and  a  little  pewter  tea-set,  and  half-a-dozen 
clam-shells.  It  is  an  awful  contrast." 

Mrs.  Kent  had  a  half-pathetic,  half-comical  way  of 
putting  the  contrasts  betwixt  her  old  life  and  her  present 
one,  which  often  amused  and  touched  Jessamine. 

The  two  young  women  had,  in  their  long,  close,  home 
intimacy,  confided  their  histories  to  each  other,  —  both 
pitiful  enough,  though  in  different  ways. 

A  little  gravity  slid  into  Mrs.  Kent's  face. 

"Ah!  Miss  Jessamine,"  she  said,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  "  it  seems  very  strange,  very  hard,  the  way  things 
happen  in  this  world.  To  think  that  half  the  money  which 
is  thrown  away  on  my  baby's  play-house  would  have 
given  me  the  education  for  which  I  am  having  such  a 
hard  struggle  now  ! ' ' 

"And  then  I  should  have  had  no  pupil,"  said  Jessa- 
mine, running  her  fingers  through  the  golden,  glancing 
heap  of  curls  in  her  lap.  "That  sounds  anything 
but  generous,  doesn't  it  ?  Still  I  think  it  must  always  be 


234  THE  HOLLANDS. 

a  comfort  to  find  how  our 'own  losses  are  somebody's 
good." 

"And  I  should  not  have  had  my  friend,"  answered 
Mrs.  Kent,  and  her  eyes  shone  tenderly  on  Jessamine. 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  what  a  fortunate  thing  that  blunder  of 
mine  was,  about  Dante  !  I  see  very  well  how  absurd  it 
was,  and  I  have  got  over  the  soreness  enough  to  be  able 
to  laugh  at  my  own  ignorance.  It  was,  as  I  said,  the 
most  fortunate  blunder  I  ever  made,  and  I  really  shall 
congratulate  myself  over  it  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Kent !  I  am  sure  I  have  the 
greater  cause  to  be  grateful  to  you  for  your  false 
chronology." 

"  How  happy  we  have  been  together  !  "  continued  the 
young  wife.  "  Dick  was  saying  to  me  this  morning  that 
he  had  grown  pretty  much  of  my  mind  about  staying  at 
home  this  summer,  instead  of  taking  a  trip  somewhere  to 
the  sea  or  the  mountains.  He  doesn't  suspect  that  the 
studies  were  the  anchor  that  held  us  fast  during  all  these 
pleasant  days ;  but  I  am  sure  it  was  best.  I  am  glad  now 
that  we  did  not  go." 

"  Oh,  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  say  that !  You  don't 
know  how  good  it  sounds  to  me,"  exclaimed  Jessamine 
with  great  fervor,  and  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes. 

Mrs.  Kent  looked  a  little  surprised. 

' '  I  can  tell  you  now  that  it  was  an  awful  struggle  to 
give  up  that  trip,  when  you  proposed  it  to  me,  and  left  the 
decision  in  my  hands." 

"  Was  it  ?  How  strange  I  had  no  suspicion  of  that  from 
your  manner  ! ' ' 


THE  HOLLANDS.        .  235 

"  How  could  it  be  otherwise,  Mrs.  Kent?  You  know 
I  am  young,  and  have  been  shut  away  all  my  life  from  the 
world,  and  I  was  hungry  and  thirsty  to  see  something  of 
it ;  but  I  saw,  too,  that  to  break  in  upon  your  studies  this 
summer  would  be  a  fatal  mischief.  You  were  just  then, 
as  Ross  would  say,  in  the  strain  and  tug ;  if  you  let  go, 
all  would  be  lost.  I  was  your  friend,  and  I  said  to 
myself,  '  Jessamine,  Jessamine,  it  is  not  her  pleasure 
or  yours  that  you  are  to  consider,  but  what  is  for  your 
friend's  best  good.'  I  knew  where  that  was ;  but  for  all  it 
was  very  hard  to  sacrifice  the  journey,  for  it  was  the  first 
summer  of  my  life  which  ever  offered  me  a  great  pleas- 
ure, and  it  cost  me  more  than  one  sharp  struggle  to  put 
it  aside." 

"  It  was  heroic,"  replied  Mrs.  Kent,  gazing  at  her 
friend  with  eyes  in  whose  fondness  some  sudden  moisture 
grew.  "How  in  the  world,  at  your  age,  could  you  do 
this  !  " 

"  I  think,"  answered  Jessamine,  slowly  and  gravely, 
"  that  early  troubles  make  one  old.  I  do  not  mean  in 
heart  or  feeling  necessarily,  but  in  whatever  requires 
wisdom  and  self-control." 

"  I  can't  perceive  that  my  troubles  ever  had  that  effect 
on  me,"  replied  Mrs.  Kent,  with  one  of  her  little  quizzical 
smiles.  "  But  I  see  now  it  would  have  been  just  as  you 
say  if  I  had  given  up  the  studies  at  that  point  and  gone 
away.  I  never  should  have  taken  them  up  again.  Now 
they  begin  to  grow  easier  and  more  interesting.  Then 
they  were  utterly  hateful." 

"  It  was  worth  the  summer  to  get  around  that  sharp 


236  THE  HOLLANDS. 

corner.  You  know  that  I  have  already  told  you  that, 
Mrs.  Kent." 

"  Yes ;  though  I  doubted  it  at  the  time,  it  seemed  such 
miserable,  dragging  work.  I  think  you  are  always  right. 
Miss  Jessamine.  How  much  good  you  have  done  me  !  " 

Mrs.  Kent  spoke  the  truth.  Even  her  husband  marked 
the  change  in  his  young  wife,  and  found  some  improve- 
ment in  what  he  had  'before  fancied  perfect.  It  was  not 
alone  the  lessons  which  Mrs.  Kent  received  from  Jessa- 
mine Holland  which  shaped  her  life  to  finer  issues,  though 
their  discipline  was  invaluable.  It  was  the  daily  associa- 
tion with  a  refined  and  high-toned  nature.  Mrs.  Kent 
was  observant,  bright,  assimilative.  She  soon  acquired 
new  habits  of  speaking,  and,  deeper  than  that,  of  thinking 
and  feeling.  Nature  had  done  well  by  the  little  factory 
girl  in  the  beginning,  but,  bright  and  susceptible  herself, 
her  heart  and  moral  instincts  had  been  trained  as  little  as 

«  . 

her  manners,  and  although  a  natural  grace  pervaded  the 
latter,  as  a  bright  kindliness  did  the  former,  still  both 
needed  culture  and  higher  examples. 

Jessamine  unconsciously  stimulated  her  friend's  whole 
nature  by  this  daily  thought  and  intimacy,  as  she  never 
could  have  done  except  through  their  mutual  affection. 
She  was  not  half  conscious  of  the  work  she  was  doing,  and 
did  not  discern  the  change  in  her  friend  fr,om  day  to  day  ; 
but  a  stranger  who  had  not  met  Mrs.  Kent  for  six 
months  would  at  once  have  detected  it. 

Jessamine's  gaze  went  out  of  the  window  again. 
Among  green  leaves  and  purpling  of  grape-vines,  among 
masses  of  bloom  that  heaped  the  ground  with  gorgeous 


THE  HOLLANDS.  237 

color,  was  that  slow  slipping  of  the  soft  west  winds,  and 
the  distant  hymn  of  the  brooks,  soft  and  sweet  as  the 
shaking  of  silver  bells  among  the  mountains  of 
Switzerland. 

Mrs.  Kent's  gaze  followed  her  friend.  "  I  think, 
Miss  Jessamine,  what  you  were  saying  about  the  year 
applies  to  human  faces  too,  —  the  faces  that  we  love,  no 
matter  how  old,  and  wrinkled",  and  changed  they  grow, 
the  vision  of  their  youth  and  loveliness  will  cling  to  us 
always." 

Even  this  remark  showed  the  influence  of  her  friend, 
the  new  heights  to  which  Mrs.  Kent  had  attained.  It  was 
not  only  in  finer  -expressions,  but  it  was  in  the  new  power, 
life,  thought,  which  pervaded  all  her  -speech. 

When  her  youth  was  gone,  Richard  Kent  would  not 
find,  as  so  many  husbands  do,  that  everything  else  was 
gone  with  the  pretty  bloom,  with  the  airs  and  graces,  and 
that  there  only  remained  'to  him  an  empty-minded, 
querulous,  selfish  woman. 

Jessamine  turned  quickly,  her  cheeks  in  a  glow.  "  Oh, 
I  am  sure  it  must  be  so  with  all  faces  that  we  love,"  she 
said.  "  There  is  Ross ;  if  his  hair  were  one  mass  of  snow, 
and  his  face  another  of  wrinkles,  it  would  never  be  old 
to  me ;  it  would  wear  the  fresh  boyhood,  the  manly  youth, 
that  is  forever  in  my  heart." 

"  And  if  this  is  true  of  your  brother,  it  must  be  still 
more  so  of  that,  other  closer,  tenderer  love  that  is  coming 
to  you  one  of  these  days,  Miss  Jessamine,"  said  Mrs. 
Kent,  very  gravely ;  but  there  was  a  little  mischievous 
twinkle  of  a  smile  around  her  mouth. 


238  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Jessamine  turned  and  looked  out  of  the  window.  One 
watching  could  scarcely  have  told  whether  the  soft  bloom 
deepened  in  her  cheeks. 

The  two  women  talked  of  love  sometimes  ;  but  Jessa- 
mine usually  concluded  with,  "  I  do  not  think  I  shall 
ever  love  anybody  so  well  as  Ross.  He  is  my  knight, 
pure,  and  noble,  and  true  as  any  who  rode  out  in  search 
of  the  Sangreal,  or  sat  at  King  Arthur's  Round  Table, 
while  his  heart  throbbed  high  over  those  old  tales  of 
heroism  and  chivalrous  daring  that  stir  our  souls  now  like 
the  sound  of  trumpets."  She  said  something  of  that 
sort  now. 

"  Oh,  but  that  other  must  come .;  he  shall,"  Mrs.  Kent 
replied,  energetically ;  and  then  Duke  Walbridge  rose  up 
before  her.  Were  those  frequent  visits  of  his  to  Jessa- 
mine Holland  simply  the  courtesies  which  a  generous 
nature  owed  to  the  sister  of  the  preserver  of  his  life  ? 

Jessamine  talked  of  the  young  man  often,  and  told 
Mrs.  Kent  that  he  had  taken  the  place  of  Ross  during 
his  absence,  and  was  a  brother  to  her.  Was  that  name  a 
pretty  fiction  simply? 

Mrs.  Kent,  with  her  quick  woman  instincts,  had  caught 
something  in  the  young  man's  eyes  when  they  went  sud- 
denly in  search  of  her  friend.  Still  she  wisely  kept  all 
that  to  herself;  and  she  was  certain,  had  Jessamine  Hol- 
land once  admitted  to  herself  that  Duke  Walbridge  was 
the  one  love  elected  by  her  heart  against  her  will,  she 
might  be  silent,  giving  no  sign  until  she  went  down  to 
her  grave  ;  but  she  would  not  disguise  the  fact  with  a  false- 
hood. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  239 

Mrs.  Kent  only  did  her  friend  justice  here.  Jessa- 
mine had  not  admitted  to  her  own  heart  more  than  her 
lips  avowed. 

"  We  have  been  very  happy  together,  you  and  I,  this 
summer,"  said  Mrs.  Kent,  coming  over  to  the  window 
where  Jessamine  stood.  "  It  doesn't  cost  me  a  pang  now 
to  think  we  relinquished  the  watering-places." 

"Nor  me  either."  Jessamine  turned  quickly  around, 
with  the  clear  sweetness  of  a  smile  which  you  instinctive- 
ly felt  would  never  play  man  or  woman  false. 

Just  then  the  phaeton  drove  up  the  avenue,  and  Mr. 
Kent,  who  sat  inside,  lifted  his  hat  to  the  ladies. 

"  Come  —  ready  for  your  drive  !"  he  shouted. 

"  We  will  be,  in  five  minutes,"  answered  his  wife, 
from  the  window. 


240  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  day  succeeding  this  talk  betwixt  Jessamine  Hol- 
land and  Mrs.  Kent,  the  Walbridges  reached  their  home 
in  New  York,  the  feminine  portion  of  the  household  a 
good  deal  worn  out  with  a  summer  full  of  excitement  and 
gayety. 

"  After  all,  it  is  pleasant  to  be  at  home  once  more," 
each  one  ejaculated,  as  all  filed  into  the  old  rooms,  and 
settled  themselves  in  the  old  places. 

In  the  evening,  too,  the  family  gathered  together  in  its 
best  mood  to  talk  over  the  events  of  the  season,  the 
pleasures  and  the  triumphs.  On  the  whole,  it  had  been  a 
very  satisfactory  summer  to  Mrs.  Walbridge ;  the  beauty 
of  her  daughters  had  created  a  profound  sensation 
wherever  they  had  alighted ;  and  they  had  been  constant- 
ly beset  with  attentions  of  that  flattering  kind  which 
^could  not  fail  to  gratify  the  heart  of  an  ambitious  mother. 

Still,  for  all  that,  the  great  object  of  the  season  had  not 
been  achieved.  Mrs.  Walbridge  could  not  tell,  for  her 
life,  whether  the  relations  of  her  son  and  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley  were  not  precisely  the  same  now  that  they  had  been 
during  the  previous  spring.  It  was  very  tantalizing.  To 
think  of  that  young  man's  throwing  away  such  a  golden 


THE  HOLLANDS.  241 

opportunity  !  He  had  been  Margaret's  constant  cavalier 
during  the  season,  and  there  was  no  doubt  that  she  pre- 
ferred him  to  any  of  the  host  of  beaux  that  were  always 
fluttering  about  her,  while  Mrs.  Ashburn  looked  on  Duke, 
smiling  and  propitious. 

Still,  when  the  families  separated  in  New  York,  Mrs. 
Walbridge  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  basis  of  a 
most  cordial  friendship,  laid  in  old  memories  and  associa- 
tions, had  been  altered.  Of  course  matters  could  not  go 
on  so  always.  Some  mother's  fortunate  son  might  step 
in  and  secure  the  hand  of  Margaret  Wheatley  and  her 
father's  money-bags  before  another  winter  had  passed. 

Duke's  mother  had  hitherto  refrained  from  any  hint  of 
her  wishes,  and  Edith  had  managed  affairs  most  skilfully ; 
but  the  former  had  began  to  feel  that  something  might 
be  gained  now  by  sounding  Duke  ;  at  any  rate,  if  silence 
had  achieved  nothing,  not  much  harm  could  be  done  by 
speaking. 

"Here  we  are  all  at  home,  and  not  one  of  us  engaged  !  " 
said  Gertrude,  in  her  lively  way.  "It's  really  too  bad, 
mamma,  that  you  should  bring  us  all  back  just  as  we 
went.  I'm  sure  it  isn't  my  fault." 

She  tried  to  look  very  innocent  and  demure  ;  she  cer- 
tainly succeeded  in  looking  very  pretty  while  she  said 
this  :  but  for  all  that  it  was  quite  manifest  that  Gertrude 
was  perfectly  conscious  that  she  was  not  uttering  a  word 
of  the  truth,  and  that  the  fault  of  her  not  being  engaged 
was  entirely  her  own. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  laughed.  "I  suppose  I  ought  to  be 
classed  with  the  unlucky  mammas,"  she  said,  "to  find 

21 


242  THE  HOLLANDS. 

you  all  back  on  my  hands  at  the  end  of  the  season.  I 
think  it  was  your  place,  Duke,  to  set  an  example  to  your 
sisters." 

"  My  sisters  are  great  humbugs  and  awful  bothers,'' 
answered  Duke,  playfully.  "I've  had  to  dance  attend- 
ance on  them  through  a  whole  summer's  campaign  of 
fashions  and  frivolities,  not  one  particle  to  my  taste,  when 
I  would  have  vastly  preferred  being  shut  up  stairs  in  my 
den  with  my  books  —  " 

"0  you  old  bear!"  said  Eva,  hanging  about  her 
brother. 

"  Wait  until  I  get  through,  child.  But,  for  all  that, 
I  think  I  like  my  sisters  better  than  any  young  women 
I've  seen  since  I  left  home." 

There  was  a  general  laugh,  in  the  midst  of  which  Mrs. 
Walbridge  and  her  eldest  daughter  exchanged  glances, 
and  each  knew  what  was  in  the  thought  of  the  other ;  a 
wonder  whether,  had  Jessamine  Holland  been  of  their 
party,  Duke  would  have  spoken  just  these  words. 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  hear  you  compliment  us  so 
highly,  Duke,"  replied  Edith,  "  had  not  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley  been  one  of  our  party." 

<:0h,  yes!"  answered  Eva,  jumping  to  the  point, 
with  the  thoughtless  eagerness  of  a  girl.  ' '  It  would  be 
delightful  to  have  Margaret  Wheatley  for  a  sister-in-law. 
I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  I  really  do  wish,  Duke, 
that  you  and  she  would  fall  in  love  with  one  another. 
How  nice  it  would  be !  " 

It  was  out  now,  for  good  or  for  evil.  Mrs.  Walbridge 
saw  her  time  had  come,  and  the  lady's  voice  was  never 


THE  HOLLANDS.  243 

keyed  to  a  more  steadied  softness  than  when  she  added, 
"Yes,  my  dear,  there  is  only  one  young  woman  in  the 
world  whom  I  could  cordially  welcome  to  my  heart  as  my 
daughter-in-law,  and  her  name  is  Margaret  Wheatley." 

"  I'm  sure  all  Duke's  sisters  feel  precisely  as  you  do, 
mamma,"  added  Edith. 

"  There,  now,  Duke,  it  is  every  man's  duty  to  marry 
to  please  his  family,"  continued  Gertrude,  who  enjoyed 
having  her  tongue  unloosed  at  last.  "  You  and  Marga- 
ret will  certainly  have  to  marry  each  other." 

"  You  are  glib  enough  over  a  man's  duties  to  his 
family,"  answered  Duke,  trying  to  parry  the  attack  with 
a  joke.  "But  what  is  a  woman's  under  the  same 
circumstances  ? ' ' 

More  than  one  voice  was  ready  with,  "  Precisely  the 
same." 

Edith  was  particularly  submissive  at  that  time.  "  I  am 
sure,"  she  said,  in  a  tone  so  meek  that  one  might  never 
have  suspected  how  seldom  she  failed  of  carrying  her  own 
point,  "I  should  never  think  of  marrying  a  man  whom 
my  family  did  not  approve." 

' '  I  devoutly  hope  none  of  my  children  will  ever  do 
that.  I  think  it  would  break  my  heart,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Walbridge. 

"Duke,"  said  Eva,  still  playfully,  "you  see  it  must 
be  Margaret  Wheatley  and  none  other." 

Duke  looked  around  on  the  circle  of  women,  his  glance 
going  from  one  face  to  the  other.  Then  he  shook  his 
head  slowly. 

"If  Margaret  Wheatley  would  have  me,"  he  said,  "I 


244  THE  HOLLANDS. 

do  not  think  it  would  be  well  for  her,  well  for  me 
either." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  more  than  one  voice. 

Again  his  look  went,  doubtful  and  grave,  around  the 
circle.  "  I  don't  think  you  would  understand  if  I  should 
tell  you,"  he  said. 

"  What  more  could  a  man  ask  ?  "  said  Edith,  with  great 
energy.  "  Margaret  Wheatley  has  youth,  beauty,  grace, 
such  as  do  not  often  fall  to  the  lot  of  woman,  and  her 
character  is  as  lovely  as  she  is  beautiful." 

"  Edith  is  right,  Duke."  replied  his  mother.  "Marga- 
ret is  all  that,  and  rny  long  friendship  for  the  family 
makes  me  regard  her  almost  as  one  of  my  own  children. 
I  have  hoped,  if  you  ever  made  up  your  mind  to  marry  at 
all,  and  I  suppose  you  will  some  day,  your  choice  will 
fall  where  mine  does." 

"And  then,  Margaret  is  so  rich,"  continued  Eva. 
"  Why,  she  would  bring  you  her  weight  in  gold!  " 

None  of  the  others  would  have  mentioned  this  fact  to 
Duke,  in  enumerating  Margaret  Wheatley's  attractions. 
With  none  of  them,  however,  would  it  in  reality  weigh  so 
lightly.  But  Eva  was  fond  of  Margaret,  and  thought  it 
would  be  a  delightful  thing  to  have  her  for  a  sister-in-law, 
and  so  threw  the  money  argument  into  the  scale  as  one 
additional  make-weight. 

"  All  that  you  say  is  true,"  answered  Duke,  with  his 
gravest  face.  "  and  yet,  and  yet  — 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  asked  Edith,  impatiently. 

"  Mother  —  girls,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  gratify  you 
in  my  choice  of  a  wife,  but  I  should  wrong  myself,  and 


THE  HOLLANDS.  245 

another  equally,  by  making  your  choice  the  chiefest  con- 
sideration." 

This  Avas  so  true  that  nobody  could  gainsay  it. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  his  mother  asked.  "But, 
Duke,  that  is  not  meeting -the  question.  What  is  in  the 
way  of  your  and  Margaret's  being  happy  together?  " 

The  talk  which  commenced  in  playfulness,  at  least  on 
the  surface,  had  grown  serious  enough  now. 

"Because,  mother,  Margaret  is  not  the  right  sort  of 
woman  for  me.  I  grant  she  is  all  that  you  say  in  beauty 
and  charms;  but  that  is  not  everything." 

Then  that  inward  courtesy  and  reverence  for  woman- 
hood, which  makes  the  real  knighthood  of  every  true 
man,  flashed  up  suddenly  in  Duke  Walbridge's  angry 
color  and  gesture. 

"I  think  it's  contemptible  for  any  fellow  to  sit  down 
and  say  what  a  woman  could  not  be  to  him,  whom  he  has 
never  asked  to  have  him,  and  who,  very  likely,  might 
refuse  him  if  he  did  ;  but  you've  compelled  me  into  this 
sort  of  talk  against  my  will." 

"  Well,  we're  ready  to  take  the  responsibility,"  replied 
Edith,  thoroughly  provoked  with  her  brother,  and  yet  a 
little  touched,  in  spite  of  herself,  at  this  instance  of  his 
delicate  chivalry  for  her  sex.  ' '  Do  tell  us,  for  once, 
Duke  Walbridge,  what  kind  of  a  woman  would  suit  you  ?  " 

Then  for  the  first  time  Duke  told  them,  and  they  all 
listened  breathlessly. 

"It  is  hard  to  speak  of  such  a  thing,"  he  said,  half 
timidly,  half  to  himself;  "but  I  will  try.  She  must  be 
a  woman  who  can  think  and  feel  with  me,  —  a  woman 


246  THE  HOLLANDS. 

who  by  original,  immortal  sympathies  can  enter  into  sor- 
row and  grief,  into  the  needs  and  limitations  of  other 
souls  wherever  she  finds  them,  —  one  who  feels  her  kindred 
with  all  humanity.  A  woman,  too,  with  swift  enthusi- 
asms for  whatever  is  good  or  true  in  the  thought  or  deed 
of  all  ages  and  all  men,  —  a  woman  with  a  mind  alert, 
absorbent,  comprehensive.  Mind,  now,  I  am  not  mean- 
ing a  genius  or  a  great  woman,  as  the  world  goes,  but  a 
woman  who  would  idealize  life  and  all  its  duties  and  re- 
lations, who  could  not  disappoint  or  disenchant  me,  —  a 
woman  believing  in  God  and  in  man,  and  whose  faith  is 
dearer  to  her  than  life  or  death,  —  a  woman  who,  when 
the  test  came,  would  always  be  steadfast  through  all 
obloquy  and  air"  sacrifices  of  what  her  sex  would  most 
prize,  —  a  woman,  too,  full  of  sweet  household  ways,  and 
bright  fancies,  overflowing  often  with  mirth  and  humor. 
I  think  I  should  like  her  best,  subject  to  little  surprises 
of  moods,  grave  in  the  midst  of  her  sparkles,  with  play- 
fulness glancing  out  suddenly  from  her  most  thoughtful 
moments.  Such  a  woman  would  be  a  gift  of  God,  a  per- 
petual inspiration  to  my  heart  and  soul  and  life,  making 
a  man  of  me,  who  feel  sometimes  in  utter  self-contempt 
that  I  am  less  than  one  now." 

It  was  seldom  that  Duke  Walbridge  laid  bare  so  much 
of  his  soul  to  his  family.  Only  in  exceptional  moments 
like  the  present  did  some  strong  wave  of  his  inmost  being 
outflow  in  words  like  these. 

Edith  was  the  first  one  who  spoke.  "  Duke,  you  are 
a  goose.  Do  you  suppose  such  a  woman  as  you  have  been 
drawing  ever  lived,  or  that  you  will  ever  find  such  a 


THE  HOLLANDS.  247 

one  ?  I  should  imagine  the  whole  thing  some  fancy  of  a 
love-sick  sophomore,  strip  it  of  all  that  fine  talk." 

"'My  son,"  said  his  mother,  very  kindly,  "I  know 
what  women  are.  You  have  been  painting  a  beautiful 
myth." 

"  Then  I  have  no  right  to  marry  another.  I  should 
do  a  deadly  wrong  to  myself,  to  my  wife  also,  because 
she  would  not  be  the  woman  of  my  heart's  election.  She 
might  make  another  man  very  happy ;  he  might  greatly 
prefer  her  to  such  a  one  as  I  have  tried  to  show  you ; 
but  every  man  must  choose  after  his  own  kind.  I  do 
not  quarrel  with  his  choice ;  but,  for  myself,  all  that  is 
best  in  me  would  go  to  rust  and  ruin  if  I  were  wedded  to 
a  woman  who  could  not  thrill  responsive' to  my  higher 
moments,  and  inspire  them  too.  Here  I  must  have 
recognition,  sympathy,  help  from  my  wife.  My  whole 
nature  craves  it,  and  I  cannot  do  it  violence." 

"  I  don't  see  why  Margaret  Wheatley  couldn't  be  this 
to  you  as  well  as  any  other  woman.  I'm  sure  she's 
brilliant,  and  very  kind-hearted,  and  all  that,"  ventured 
Gertrude. 

"  Ah,  but  she  isn't  what  I  mean.  You  compel  me  to 
say  it  again.  The  day  that  I  married  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley  would  be  the  ruin  of  me.  Don't  all  of  you  stare  at 
me  as  though  I  were  a  brute.  I'm  not  good  enough  to 
be  her  husband.  It's  hard  enough  for  me  to  resist  the 
devil  in  all  the  shapes  of  ease,  indolence,  luxury,  dissipa- 
tion, in  which  he  daily  comes  to  me.  How  could  I  do  it 
married  to  a  woman  whose  wealth  would  pamper  and 
suffocate  me  with  splendid  luxury  ?  I  am  not  low  enough 


248  THE  HOLLANDS. 

to  sit  down  in  slavish  enjoyment  of  my  golden  chains. 
I  could  never  weld  them  into  a  ladder  on  which  to  climb 
heavenward.  Then,  in  any  wide  sense,  Margaret  and  I 
must  always  be  strangers  to  each  other.  I  have  felt  that 
in  our  most  intimate  moments.  I  enjoy  her  brightness, 
the  sparkle  of  her  talk  and  manner.  She  amuses  and 
interests  me  ;  but  Avhen  I  have  said  that  I  have  done. 
She  never  knew  the  thrill  of  one  noble,  self-forgetful 
emotion  ;  all  the  awful  griefs  and  struggles  and  sacrifices 
which  any  true  soul,  standing  still  to  listen,  hears  echo- 
ing down  through  the  dead  years,  are  no  more  to  her 
than  the  babbling  of  summer  waves  on  the  beach. 

"Margaret  is  brilliant  and  charming, — none  is  more 
willing  to  grant  it  than  I,  —  but  her  heart  never  throbbed 
with  one  grateful  emotion  to  the  dead  men  and  women 
whose  lives  and  whose  deaths  have  wrought  the  liberty 
and  peace  and  happiness  she  enjoys  to-day ;  she  never 
sympathized  with  any  strong  impulse  for  the  help  and 
elevation  of  her  race.  It  was  not  in  her  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  her  education  has  made  her  unconsciously  but 
supremely  selfish.  One  can  be  that,  and  very  sweet  and 
amiable  also.  But  talk  to  Margaret  Wheatley  of  any 
lofty  purpose  in  the  world,  of  any  living  for  God  or  hu- 
manity, and  she  would  stare  at  i  in  blank  amazement 
or  pitying  contempt  for  my  romantic  vagaries,  and  per- 
haps, in  her  exceeding  good  nature,  propose,  to  amuse 
me  —  a  splendid  wine-supper  —  her  father  gives  such. 
Faugh  !  Or  she  would  gossip  prettily  over  her  friends'* 
charming  breakfasts,  or  her  own  costly  laces  from  the 
last  steamer';  and  I,  with  my  self-contempt  hanging  a 


THE  HOLLANDS.  249 

millstone  about  my  neck,  should  sink  smothered  in  that 
close,  enervating  atmosphere,  into  an  idle,  useless  wretch, 
of  no  more  worth  in  the  world  than  my  lady's  lap-dog. 
How  the  thought  would  lash  me  at  times  that  I  had  sold 
myself  for  money ;  and  my  secret  soul  would  say  to  me, 
'  Coward  and  knave !  The  man  who  grooms  your 
horses,  the  clown  who  builds  your  walls,  is  a  king  and  a 
hero  to  you,  —  you  who  pride  yourself  on  your  breeding, 
your  culture,  your  high  ideals  of  life,  your  kid-glove 
philanthropy  !  ' 

"I  see  myself  now,  squandering  my  father-in-law's 
money  in  costly  cigars,  driving  fine  horses,  striving  to 
drown  my  self-loathing  in  an  affected  dilettanteism,  crit- 
icising the  last  fine  picture  or  new  book.  Better  be  a 
sailor  in  the  forecastle,  or  with  hard  hands  hewing  trees 
on  the  frontiers,  at  guard  with  wild  beasts  and  savages ; 
better  be  anything  that  is  honest,  under  God's  heaven, 
than  that  thing  which  I  have  named." 

'  Again  there  was  a  little  silence.     "When  Duke's  in- 
most soul  stirred  and  spoke  to  his  family,  there  was  a 
solid  sense,  a  sledge-hammer  ring  of  eternal  truth,  in 
.  what  he  said. 

Across  the  silence  slipped  a  little  silvery,  indignant 
laugh  of  Edith's.  "  If  I  really  believed  all  this  fine 
rhapsody  of  yours  was  true,  Duke  Walbridge,  and  that 
a  little  money,  more  or  less,  could  work  such  havoc  with 
your  whole  nature,  I  should  think  my  brother  was  an 
awfully  feeble  specimen  of  his  sex.  Aren't  you  ashamed 
to  slander  yourself  so  ?  " 

"Aren't  you  ashamed,  Edith,  to  so  misrepresent  my 


250  THE  HOLLANDS. 

meaning?  You  know  it  was  not  the  fortune,  but  the 
coming  by  it  wrongly,  which  would  be  the  ruin  of  me, 
just  as  it  would  had  I  stolen  it.3' 

"  I  think,"  said  Gertrude,  with  a  twinkle  of  fun  in 
her  eyes,  "  we  may  quote  to  Duke  what  Festus  said  to 
Paul.  '  Much  learning,  Duke,  doth  make  thee  mad.' ' 

There  was  a  shout  of  laughter  from  the  younger  girls, 
neither  the  mother  nor  eldest  sister  joining  in  it. 

"I  think,"  continued  the  latter,  with  much  asperity, 
"he  must  ha-ve  got  into  that  state  which  some  poet  de- 
scribes :  — 

" '  When  life  is  half  moonshine  and  half  Mary  Jane.' 

11  No  man  who  was  not  hopelessly  moon-struck  would 
ever  dream  of  drawing  such  an  impossible  Dulcinea  as  a 
real  live  flesh-and-blood  woman.  If  you  labor  under 
the  illusion,  Duke,  that  you  have  really  beheld  your 
'  Mary  Jane,'  do,  for  goodness'  sake,  enlighten  us  where 
in  earth,  air,  or  sea.  you  chanced  upon  the  paragon?  " 

"  I  do  think  you  are  too  bad,  Edith,  to  make  fun  of 
your  brother  in  that  way,"  exclaimed  Eva,  who  began  to. 
feel  that  it  was  time  somebody  ranged  themselves  on 
Duke's  side,  although  it  must  be  owned  that  young  man 
had  never  yet  proved  himself  unequal  to  his  own  defence 
against  all  the  forces  of  ridicule  and  satire  which  his 
family  occasionally  brought  to  bear  upon  him.  "I'm 
sure  what  he  said  sounded  real  grand,  and  I  couldn't 
help  thinking  the  woman  he  described  was  a  little 
like  —  " 


THE  HOLLANDS.  251 

Eva  stopped  here,  she  could  not  tell  why;  it  was 
hardly  like  the  impulsive  little  puss ;  but  she  stopped. 
Everybody  was  breathless.  Duke  turned  upon  her,  and 
his  eyes  seemed  to  command  her. 

"Like  whom,  Eva?  "  he  said,  slowly  and  gravely. 

"  Like  Jessamine  Holland,"  she  answered. 

Something  came  into  his  face ;  was  it  strength,  light, 
joy  ?  It  was  all  these  together. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  in  a  low,  solemn,  yet  exultant 
tone,  as  though  it  was  a  grand  truth  whoce  knowledge 
came  from  some  inmost  depth  of  his  soul,  and  it  almost 
seemed  as  though  one  might  hear  the  throb  of  his  heart 
through  the  words,  "I  think  it  is  a  little  like  Jessa- 
mine Holland !  " 

Then  they  all  knew,  —  at  least  all  but  Eva.  There 
was  a  silence  through  the  room.  At  last  Edith  spoke, 
with  more  angry  energy  than  ever. 

"  Jessamine  Holland  !  It  is  no  more  like  her  than  it 
is  like  the  rest  of  us.  Duke,  you  are  a  fool !  " 

"  I  do  not  dispute  it,"  he  answered,  in  that  icy  tone, 
which  always  convinced  them  that  it  would  be  useless  to 
attempt  getting  anything  further  out  of  him.  In  a  few 
moments  he  went  out. 

His  mother,  without  saying  a  word,  rose  up  and  went 
to  her  room.  When  she  got  there  —  it  was  a  very 
unusual  thing  in  Mrs.  Walbridge,  but  she  actually  sat 
down  in  her  chair  and  burst  into  tears. 

In  a  few  moments  her  two  elder  daughters  joined  her. 
They  were  a  good  deal  shocked  at  the  sight  of  their 
mother's  distress. 


252  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"It  is  just  as  we  feared.  Jessamine  Holland  has 
stood  in  our  way  all  the  time*"  said  Edith.  "  I  wish 
she  had  never  crossed  our  threshold.1' 

"  To  think  I'd  set  my  heart  so  upon  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley  being  my  boy's  wife.  It  seems  as  though  the  disap- 
pointment would  break  it.  And  to  have  that  strange, 
penniless  girl  in  her  stead." 

"  She  never  shall  be,"  said  Edith,  bringing  down  her 
clenched  hand  on  the  table.  Then  she  rose  up  and 
paced  the  room,  and  her  face  was  dark  with  passion,  and 
something  looked  out  of  her  eyes  which  one,  seeing  there, 
would  ever  after  have  feared  and  dreaded  in  Edith  Wai- 
bridge. 

"  I'll  circumvent  her  by  fair  means  or  foul.  Duke 
shall  yet  be  Margaret  Wheatley's  husband." 

"  How  in  the  world  can  that  be,  Edith  ?  "  asked  her 
mother,  catching  at  straws.  "You  heard  what  Duke 
said.  You  saw  his  look  too." 

"I  don't  care  what  he  said,  or  what  I  saw.  That 
strange  girl  has  no  business  to  come  into  our  family  and 
beguile  our  brother  away  from  us,  and  frustrate  all  the 
happiness  of  two  families,  for  we  perfectly  understand 
Mrs.  Ashburn's  feelings ;  and  as  for  Margaret,  Duke  has 
only  to  ask  her.  It's  demanding  too  much  to  require  us 
to  give  up  everything  for  that  Jessamine  Holland,  even 
if  her  brother  did  save  Duke's  life." 

"  I  wish  the  thing  had  never  darkened  our  doors," 
added  Gertrude,  and  her  mother  did  not  check  her. 

"For  my  part,"  continued  Edith,  "I'm  going  to  re- 
lieve my  mind.  I  frankly  own  that  I  hate  and  detest 


THE  HOLLANDS.  253 

the  girl,  and  I  think  the  circumstances  fully  justify  me. 
Just  think  how  she  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  unhappi- 
ness  in  our  family.  There  is  no  doubt  Duke  would  to- 
day be  betrothed  to  Margaret  Wheatley,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  this  little  country  girl,  with  her  pretty  face  and 
strange,  wheedling  ways.  She  is  in  no  wise  fitted  to  be 
Duke's  wife,  either  by  birth  or  circumstances,  and  we 
owe  it  to  him  and  to  ourselves  to  prevent  a  marriage  of 
which  we  shall  always  be  ashamed.  I  shall  do  my  part, 
as  I  said,  by  fair  means  or  foul." 

Again,  Mrs.  Walbridge  did  not  check  this  talk.  The 
truth  was,  Jessamine  Holland  had  taken,  in  the  lady's 
eyes,  the  shape  of  her  keenest  disappointment,  of  her 
bitterest  enemy.  Was  it  wrong,  then,  to  .treat  her  as 
such? 


254  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

"SOME  quillet  how  to  cheat  the  devil!"  Edith 
Walbridge  had  been  quoting  Longaville's  words  to  her- 
self a  good  many  times  of  late ;  always,  too,  with  a 
little  amused  smile,  but  something  hard  and  bitter  under 
the  smile.  Once,  even,  she  found  herself  writing  the 
words  on  a  card.  They  stared  up  at  her  there  in  a  way 
she  did  not  like. 

"Nonsense!"  she  said,  and  threw  the  card  into  the 
fire,  just  as  she  would  any  small  foul  thing  that  had 
dropped  in  her  way. 

That  the  devil  must  be  at  the  bottom  of  Duke's  fall- 
ing in  love  with  Jessamine  Holland,  his  eldest  sister  was 
quite  ready  to  believe.  Plow  could  it  be  otherwise  when 
there  was  a  Margaret  Wheatley  to  be  had  for  the  right 
kind  of  asking?  Had  not  Mason  Walbridge' s  daughters 
been  brought  iip  to  regard  wealth  as  the  one  chiefest 
good  of  life,  no  matter  how  energetically  their  mother 
might  have  denied  this-? 

Edith  had  learned  something  more,  —  that  it  might 
not  be  easy  always  to  combine  Avealth  and  the  qualities 
most  to  one's  taste  in  a  husband.  She  had  a  goodly 
list  of  offers  in  her  own  memory,  which  she  could  dis- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  255 

play  on  proper  occasions.  A  goodly  list  as  the  world 
goes ;  but  among  the  nabobs  were  several  old  enough  to 
be  her  father.  Indispensable  as  money  was,  the  making 
of  it,  or  the  marrying  for  it,  was  not  always  agreea- 
ble. 

Sometimes,  to  tell  the  honest  truth,  Edith  was  half 
repentant  over  her  own  engagement.  Felix,  with  all 
those  graces  which  made  him  the  idol  and  herself  the 
envy  of  so  many  women  in  her  circle,  must  wait  for  the 
death  of  his  rich  bachelor  urtble  before  he  came  into  a 
fortune  ample  enough  to  gratify  the  ambition  of  his  be- 
trothed. 

Should  the  golden  river  of  Margaret  "Wheatley's 
wealth  flow  into  Duke's  channel,  there  .was  little  doubt 
but  some  glittering  streams  might  be  diverted  into  the 
family  pastures,  where  they  would  be  very  grateful. 

So  Edith  Walbridge  was  not  wholly  animated  at  this 
time  by  pure  solicitude  for  her  brother's  welfare.  You 
will  remember  this,  for  it  serves  to  explain  the  energy 
with  which  she  laid  her  plot. 

It  seemed  to  Duke  Walbridge  almost  as  though  some 
fate  stood  in  the  way  of  his  getting  out  to  the  Rents  as 
the  days  slipped  off  after  his  return.  Each  one  he  prom- 
ised himself  to  go,  and  each  one  there  was  some  pressing 
demand  on  his  time  by  his  mother  or  sisters,  —  of  a  kind, 
too,  that  he  could  not,  without  real  ill-nature,  decline  to 
execute. 

One  morning,  however,  he  grew  desperate,  mounted 
his  horse,  and,  without  saying  a  word  to  anybody,  rode 
over  to  the  Rents.  At  first  he  had  refrained  from  doing 


256  THE  HOLLANDS. 

this,  with  a  feeling  that  Miss  Holland's  mornings  would 
be  closely  occupied ;  but  the  evenings  had  failed  him, 
and  his  heart  was  the  strong,  passionate  heart  of  a 
young  man,  and  Jessamine  Holland  was  the  girl  of  its 
love. 

It  was  many  months  since  Miss  Holland  had  had  a 
morning  to  herself;  but  this  one  Mrs.  Kent  was  so  far 
indisposed  that  the  lessons  were  intermitted.  Jessamine 
drew  a  long  breath  over  such  an  unusual  luxury  as  a 
whole  morning  to  do  nothing. 

During  these  last  days  the  weather  had  changed,  the 
winds  had  blown  from  the  north  a  stern  menace  of  the 
winter  that  was  coming,  and  in  the  evenings  the  frosts 
had  walked  silent  as  fire,  and  swift  and  strong  as  that 
also,  among  the  leaves  and  grasses. 

A  chill,  too,  had  crept  in-doors^  and  Mrs.  Kent  had 
said  the  day  before,  with  a  little  shrug  of  her  shoulders, 
when  her  husband  talked  of  starting  the  furnace, 
"  Dick,  let  us  fancy  we  are  poor  folks  again,  and  have  a 
real  old-fashioned  wood-fire  on  the  hearth.  I  was  brought 
up  on  that,  you  know." 

Jessamine  laughed  that  low,  amused,  happy  laugh  of 
hers,  which  seemed  to  have  gathered  into  itself  some 
tinkle  out  of  silvery  bells,  some  sweetness  from  the  first 
robin's  throat  poured  into  the  blue  of  a  May  morn- 
ing. 

"  I  have  dreamed  that  I  was  rich,  by  those  wood-fires  so 
very  often ;  richer  than  there  is  any  probability  I  shall 
ever  be,  sitting  by  grander  ones."  , 

Once  in  a  while  Jessamine  turned  the  comic  side  of 


THE  HOLLANDS.  257 

that  old  poverty-stricken  life  toward  her.  Every  human 
life  has  one,  and  every  healthful  human  being  sees  it  also 
sometimes  ;  but  oftenest  the  girl's  laughter  shone  through 
tears. 

Mrs.  Kent's  wish,  of  course,  was  law  with  her  husband, 
and  the  little  household  gathered  around  the  fire  in  a 
merry  mood,  which  softened  as  the  fire  grew  and  old 
memories  crowded  upon  the  three. 

It  stirred  his  boyhood  in  the  heart  of  the  man  whose 
years  more  than  doujbled  those  of  the  fair  young  women 
on  either  side  of  him.  He  told  them  stories  of  his  child- 
hood, of  his  old  mother,  and  of  his  hard  battles  with  the 
world,  and  then  went  off  on  his  travels  around  the  globe, 
bringing  close  to  their  vision  new  horizons  which  lay  out 
far  beyond  their  narrow  spheres,  until  the  minutes 
slipped  into  hours,  and  the  hours  into  midnight. 

The  next  morning,  when  Mr.  Kent  renewed  his  talk 
of  starting  the  furnace,  Jessamine  put  in  a  plea  again 
for  a  wood-fire,  and  she  had  it  all  to  herself  in  the  little 
sitting-room.  Not  without  a  run  out-doors  first  in  the 
autumn  air,  that  stirred  one's  pulses'  with  something 
better  than  champagne.  It  held  now  that  cool,  frosty 
chill  which  would  melt  in  the  broad  noon  sunshine.  She 
had  a  race  through  the  grounds  to  the  pond  which  kept 
that  great,  solemn  stretch  of  autumn  sky  in  its  wide 
depths ;  she  even  went  into  the  little  cockle-shell  of  a 
boat  there,  and  rocked  in  it  like  a  child  for  a  while ;  then 
she  whirled  herself  out  and  up  among  the  fruit-trees, 
gathering  handfuls  of  ripe  plums  and  pears,  and,  sweeping 
off  to  the  flower-beds,  plucked  some  sprays  of  verbena, 

22 


258  THE   HOLLANDS. 

and  twisted  the  scarlet  flames  in  her  hair.  She  was  like 
a  child  let  loose  after  six  months  of  mornings  which  she 
could  not  call  her  own,  if  she  excepted  the  Sundays. 
She  had  to  work  off  in  this  way  the  first  intoxication  of 
freedom,  and  came  in  at  last  with  a  bloom  of  roses  in  her 
cheeks,  her  eyes  full  of  a  dark  beryl  sort  of  lustre,  and 
something  in  her  heart  that  was  like  the  gladness  of 
thrushes  when  they  sing  for  the  first  time  in  May  morn- 
ings. 

The  great  mass  of  glittering  flame  was  alive  on  the 
hearth  when  she  came  in.  Her  whole  face  was  alive,  too, 
when  she  saw  it.  At  a  little  stand  on  one  side  were  some 
poems,  —  Tennyson  and  Aurora  Leigh.  She  had  brought 
them  both  down  last  night,  for  the  mellow  sweetness  of 
the  ballads  had  been  like  wafted  fragrance  among  her 
thoughts  all  day,  broken  into  sometimes  by  the  rumble 
of  Mrs.  Browning's  words,  like  the  thunder  of  the  sea 
on  distant  coasts. 

Jessamine  took  up  one  book  and  then  the  other,  but 
she  could  not  settle  herself  to  read.  Her  heart  was  pal- 
pitating with  the  out-door  life,  with  its  vast  spaces,  its 
freedom,  its  untamed  strength. 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  gypsy,  at  least  for  this  one  day,"  she 
murmured,  standing  before  the  fire  with  that  live,  flushed 
face  of  hers,  thinking  what  a  bright,  awift,  strange  thing 
fire  was  too.  ^ 

"  Miss  Jessamine  !  "  The  voice  was  at  her  elbow,  and 
she  turned  with  a  start  and  a  little  in-drawn  cry.  Was 
she  an  angel  dropped  right  out  of  heaven,  he  half  won- 
dered, as  she  stood  there  with  the  little  hat  she  had  for- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  259 

gotten  to  take  off,  its  brown  plume  shading  one  side  of 
her  face.  The  heat  was  in  her  cheeks  which  she  had 
brought  from  out-doors  a  moment  before. 

Duke  Walbridge  had  come  in  so  softly  that  she  had 
not  heard  him.  They  had  not  seen  each  other  for  several 
months,  and  they  sat  down  by  the  fire  in,  let  us  suppose, 
a  very  brotherly,  sisterly  Avay. 

"How  well  you  are  looking,  Miss  Jessamine !  The 
teaching  has  agreed  with  you,"  he  said. 

The  color  came  into  her  face  under  the  strong,  admir- 
ing gaze ;  but  then  it  would  have  done  so  had  Ross  been 
in  Duke's  place. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  a  smile  twinkling  across  her  voice, 
as  a  little  laugh  did  into  her  words,  "I  have  begun  to 
corTclude  that  I  have  found  my  vocation,  which  is,  you 
know,  the  first  grand  duty  of  life." 

Duke  Walbridge  answered  her  in  her  own  kind.  It 
was  wonderful  how  this  young  girl  always  struck  the 
deep  keys  of  his  soul ;  whether  of  mirth  and  gladness, 
or  pity,  indignation,  courage,  strength,  all  the  gamut  of 
his  soul  yielded  to  her  touch. 

"You  have  lived  farther  than  I,  Miss  Jessamine,  for 
I  have  never  discovered  any  especial  vocation  except  for 
being  lazy." 

She  shook  her  head.     "  You  mistake  me  there.     One 

0 

side  of  my  nature  is  always  craving  a  life  of  sensuous 
ease,  a  picture  of  mere  color  and  grace,  aTtftus  land,  not 
only  of  the  senses,  but  of  the  soul." 

Again  that  look  in  his  eyes,  bringing  a  more  vivid 
color  to  her  cheeks.  It  made  her  a  little  uneasy,  and 


260  THE  HOLLANDS. 

with  that  unconscious  motion  of  hers  she  put  up  her 
hand  to  brush  back  her  hair,  and  brushed  instead  the 
plumes  of  her  hat.  It  was  in  her  lap  the  next  mo- 
ment. 

"  How  ridiculous  !  Have  I  been  sitting  here  all  this 
time  with  my  hat  on?  "  The  sprays  of  verbena,  like  a 
thick  swarm  of. fire-flies,  quivering  in  her  lap  also.  "  The 
truth  is,  I  was  just  in  from  a  morning  ramble,  and  brought 
some  of  the  life  back  with  me,  and  so  forgot  in-door  pro- 
prieties." 

"I  saw  that,  Miss  Jessamine,  in  your  eyes  and  face; 
but  indeed  the  hat  is  so  becoming  that  I  could  not  choose 
but  let  it  stay." 

Any  of  his  sister's  gallants  would  have  said  as  much ; 
but  Duke  was  not  a  flatterer.  When  he  complimented 
man  or  woman  he  meant  it,  and  that  gave  weight  to  hi3 
praise. 

The  talk  went  after  this  to  the  summer.  Duke  was 
hardly  enthusiastic  over  it.  A  good  deal  of  it,  he  frank- 
ly admitted,  was  a  bore ;  but  then,  girls  must  have  their 
gayeties,  at  least  those  who  have  a  relish  for  such  things, 
and  he  supposed  all  did. 

"I  think  so,"  replied  Jessamine,  a  little  doubtfully. 
"  As  to  the  gayeties  though,  I  hardly  know,  but  the  new 
sides  of  human  life,  and  the  scenery,  and  all  those  things," 
—  she  drew  one  of  those  long  breaths  that  often  cut 
s^ort  her  periods,  but  gave  them  a  completeness  which  no 
words  could. 

"You,  Miss  Jessamine,  you?"  His  gaze  see'ming  to 
interrogate  something  which  lay  beyond  the  flushing  of 


THE  HOLLANDS.  261 

the  face.  "  I  was  just  thinking  how  much  brighter,  how 
much  happier  you  looked  than  most  of  the  young  women 
who  have  flirted,  and  danced,  and  dissipated  away  the 
summer  at  the  springs  and  the  seashore ;  yet  to  most  of 
these,  the  life  you  have  led  here  would  have  been  an 
intolerable  drudgery." 

Her  smile  answered  him,  bright  and  clear  as  sunshine. 
"  It  has  been  Avork,  and  that,  of  course,  is  not  always  so 
pleasant  as  play,  but  it  has  not  harmed  me ;  indeed,  the 
world  looked  so  pleasant  in  my  eyes  this  morning,  while 
I  was  out  there  among  the  leaves  and  flowers,  that  I 
could  not  help  thinking  what  a  blessed  and  glorious  thing 
it  was. to  live  here  at  all.  I  was  so  unutterably  happy. 
Only,  only  — "' 

"  Go  on,  Miss  Jessamine." 

' '  I  could  not  help  thinking,  sometimes,  of  those  others 
who  are  lonely,  wretched,  wicked,  in  the  world.  Some- 
how, in  my  happiest  moments  —  I  mean  those  which  come 
to  me~at  times,  and  seem  fairly  to  overflow  with  their 
peace,  their  wealth  and  joy  of  life  —  I  seem  still  to  hear 
that  undercurrent  of  misery  from  the  heart  of  the  world, 
as  I  have  been  told  one  may  hear,  through  all  the  light 
and  stillness  of  summer  afternoons,  the  far-off  murmur 
of  the  ocean  upon  the  shore,  not  near  enough  to  drown 
the  other  voices,  but  still  winding  into  them  with  its  dis- 
tant roar  and  restlessness ;  and  so  I  hear  that  vague  un- 
dercurrent of  restlessness,  bewilderment,  and  pain  haunt- 
ing my  happiest  hours." 

How  she  spoke  after  his  own  heart !  Echoing  the 
thoughts  of  his  own  soul !  Think  of  Margaret  Wheatley's 


262      .  THE  HOLLANDS. 

saying  that !  Why,  the  world  outside  of  her  own  orbit 
was  much  to  the  banker's  heiress  as  the  happiness  or 
misery  of  another  planet ! 

The  talk  last  night  with  his  family  was  still  quicken- 
ing in  Duke's  soul.  It  had  been  almost  like  an  avowal 
of  love,  and  it  seemed  to  have  steadied  and  braced  him. 
The  sight  of  Jessamine's  face,  the  sound  of  her  voice 
after  all  this  silence,  worked  some  magic  in  him.  He 
had  never  thought  of  telling  Jessamine  Holland  the 
story  of  his  love,  without  his  heart  beating  in  his  throat, 
and  his  breath  coming  short  and  hard.  . 

He  had  that  faculty  of  idealism  which  is  so  peculiarly 
womanly,  and  yet  without  which  no  man  is  capable  of 
the  finest  and  highest  love.  This  idealism  wrought  at 
times  the  bashfulness  of  a  girl  in  the  heart  of  the  young 
man,  and  a  large  sense  of  unworthiness,  which  was  for- 
ever tormenting  the  youth  of  Duke  Walbridge.  Bat 
some  courage  had  entered  into  the  man.  For  a  moment, 
as  he  heard  her  speak,  his  love  seemed  to  him  a-  thing 
that  he  need  not  be  ashamed  of,  —that  he  should  not  carry 
in  secret  like  a  woman's,  unwooed ;  it  was  a  thing  that 
did  him  honor ;  he  was  not  ashamed  of  it  before  God. 
Why  was  he  in  the  presence  of  this  woman,  before  whom 
he  could  say,  at  least,  his  soul  was  honored  in  loving 
her? 

So,  leaning  forward,  he  took  both  her  hands  in  his.: 
"Ah,  Jessamine,  I  have  heard  that  undertone  of  which 
you  speak;  that  echo  of  the  world's  plaint  and  misery 
has  rung  in  iny  ears  ever  since  my  boyhood.  And  yet 
—  God  forgive  me  —  if  my  eyes  have  been  opened  that 


THE  HOLLANDS.  2G3 

they  could  see,  while  I  have  done  nothing  to  help  to  save 
my  kind.  That  is  the  worst  of  it." 

The  soft,  warm  hands  trembled  a  little  in  his,  and  then 
were  quiet,  for  she  was  thinking  of  his  words  rather  than 
of  his  act. 

"You  say,  '  God  forgive  me,'  for  not  helping  the 
misery.  I  have  to  say  it  for  a  greater  sin  than  that,  Mr. 
Walbridge  ;  for  almost  doubting  his  wisdom,  his  goodness, 
his  existence  even,  —  sitting  up  there  in  the  great,  white 
calm  of  his  heavens,  and  letting  this  great,  awful  wail 
of  humanity  go  up  to  him, -and  not  stirring  to  help  it, 
—  he,  with  the  courage  and  the  power.  Are  you  shocked 
with  me  ?  " 

"Shocked  with  you,  my  child,"  —she  seemed  like  one 
to  him  for  the  moment,  —  "when  I  have  often  asked 
myself,  looking  out  on  this  great  muddle  of  a  world, 
whether  I  was  infidel  or  atheist,  — feeling,  as  Robinson 
says,  'the  awful  cracking  of  the  ice  of  doubt  under 
one's  feet.' " 

The  tears  came  into  her  eyes,  her  smile  shining  across 
them  too.  "  That  is  it,"  she  said.  "  But  it  is  only  at 
times  I  go  down  into  these  awful  abysses  of  doubt,  and 
the  grass  in  the  fields,  the  singing  of  a  little  bird,  the 
sunshine  on  the  hills,  all  come  like  the  voices  of  angels, 
to  refute  my  fears.  I  know  that  God  lives,  and  so  does 
his  unspeakable  Gift,  the  Christ  he  gave  us." 

"  Yes,"  Duke  answered  her  ;  "  in  my  truest  moments 
I  know  that,  and  I  know,  too,  what  that  Christ's  exam- 
ple was,  which  I  do  not  follow." 

"Ah!    we    can  all    say    that,"  —  with    her    sweetly 


264  THE  HOLLANDS. 

serious  face.  "  I  have  often  wondered  what  I  was  doing 
for  God  in  his  world." 

"You!  you!  Ah,  Miss  Jessamine,  you  are  doing 
good  that  you  do  not  know." 

"  Where  ?  What?  There  is  Ross,  I  know,  but  he- is 
my  brother,  and  I  love  him  because  I  cannot  help  it,  any 
more  than  I  can  help  breathing ;  but  it  is  the  great  world 
around  me ;  there  are  so  many  hearts  that  need  comfort- 
ing, so  many  feet  that  stumble,  so  many  who  need  a 
hand  even  as  feeble  as  mine  is  to  help,  or  at  least  to 
point  the  rignt  way.  I  cannot  find  my  work,  but  I 
think  one  is  sure  to  do  that,  if  only  one's  heart  is  thor- 
oughly in  it.  It  must  be  that  we  are  all  here  to  do 
some  good  in  God's  world." 

"I  think  so."  Then  his  glance  went  over  and  fell 
upon  Aurora  Leigh  on  the  table.  "  After  all,  how  much 
grander  Romney  Leigh's  failure  was  than  most  men's 
success,  even,  if  it  is  the  mighty  success  of  dollars  and 
cents  !  We  sneer  at  the  Israelites,  Miss  Jessamine,  but 
our  own  age,  with  all  its  science,  its  .culture,  and  its 
material  advancement,  is  still  at  the  old  work  in  the  wil- 
derness, building  golden  calves,  and  worshipping  them." 

"Yes,  my  range  is  narrow,  but  it  commands  horizon 
enough  to  see  that ;  yet,  if  there  is  great  danger  in  hav- 
ing too  much  money,  there  is,  it  seems  to  me,  a  greater 
in  having  too  little.  I  used  to  think  money  was  the  one 
good  in  life,  when  that  poverty  bor?  down  so  awfully 
upon  my  youth  ;  and,  0  Mr.  Walbridge,  money  is  a  good 
thing,  —  a  very  few  thousands  would  bring  back  Ross  to 
me!" 


THE  HOLLANDS.  265 

"A  most  necessary  thing.  The  being  born  with  a 
silver  spoon  in  my  mouth  may  work  my  deadly  ruin ;  but 
I  will  never  drift  into  that  silly  twaddle  about  poverty's 
allowing,  in  fact,  the  only  Arcadian  innocence  and  hap- 
piness. A  man  with  a  luxurious  dinner  before  him  may 
talk  very  prettily  and  very  absurdly  about  hunger.  Let 
him  one  day  face  the  hard,  grim  fact,  not  breaking  his 
fast  with  bread  and  butter.  The  life  is  better  than  meat, 
and  the  body  than  raiment ;  but  He  who  said  this  did  not 
mean  that  it  was  good  to  go  cold  or  starving." 

This  was  strange  talk  between  a  young  man  and 
woman.  Just  imagine  the  Walbridge  girls'  lovers  talk- 
ing like  this !  They  expected  queer  things  of  that 
"  smart,  odd  Duke,"  but  I  think,  if  they  could  have  heard 
him  this  morning,  they  would  have  half  doubted  whether 
he  had  not  gone  "  clean  daft." 

And  to  think  that  all  the  graces,  and  airs,  and  charms 
with  which  men  have  been  won  from  time  immemorial, 
shbuld  go  for  nothing  with  Duke,  while  he  should  actu- 
ally fall  in  love  with  a  young  woman  discussing  themes 
which  would  be  admirable  coming  from  a  parson  in  the 
pulpit  on  a  Sunday  ;  but  the  idea  of  two  rational  human 
beings  courting  in  that  way  ! 

"You  say,"  continued  Jessamine,  "that  the  silver 
spoon  may  work  your  deadly  ruin,  Mr.  Walbridge. 
Did  you  mean  so  much  as  that?  " 

"  Yes,  just  so  much.  Look  now  at  the  lazy,  worthless 
life  I've  been  leading  this  summer,  for  instance,  dancing 
attendance  on  the  girls  from  one  fashionable  resort  to 
another,  lounging  through  the  days  in  idleness  and  lux- 

23 


266  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ury,  a  bootless  search  after  excitement  and  pleasure.  I 
knew  all  the  time  that  it  was  totally  unworthy  of  a  man 
and  a  man's  life,  this  miserable  frittering  away  of  ex- 
istence —  growing  cynical  and  bitter  over  the  ambitions 
of  people  as  silly  and  contemptible  as  your  own.  If  I 
were  the  son  of  a  poor  man,  how  different  it  would  all 
have  been !  I  should  at  least  have  earned  my  honest 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  my  brow,  instead  of  having  other 
hands  butter  it  on  both  sides  for  me,  not  .certain  whether 
my  self-contempt  had  salt  enough  in  it  to  keep  me  from 
spoiling.  Do  you  think  it  has,  Miss  Jessamine?  " 

He  had  loosened  her  hands  long  ago,  but  he  turned 
now  and  faced  her  with  a  kind  of  hungry  eagerness  work- 
ing in  his  mouth  and  eyes,  which  told  to  a  close  observer 
that  her  answer  was  one  of  life  or  death  to  him. 

Jessamine  looked  up,  and  something  which  she  did  not 
know  rose  in  her  eyes.  Something  of  that  look  with 
which  tender  women,  whom  we  read  of,  have  girded  men 
for  the  battle,  or  followed  them  to  the  scaffold.  "  Yes," 
she  said,  "I  think  there  is  salt  enough  to  save  you. 
I  would  trust  you  !  " 

Her  voice  was  steady,  her  sweet,  bright  smile  moved 
like  a  light  held  over  them  across  her  words.  The  sight 
shook  the  young  man  to  his  soul.  A  great  longing  to 
tell  her  all  that  had  been  in  his  heart  for  the  last  months 
came  upon  him  —  the  words  clamored  at  his  throat  — 
his  pulse  flew  at  his  wrist  like  a  frightened  bird's ;  he 
rose  up ;  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  his  hand  dropped 
on  her  hair,  a  soft,  tender,  caressing  motion.  "Jessa- 
mine !  Jessamine  !  "  He  could  not  get  any  farther,  his 


THE  HOLLANDS.  267 

throat  was  parched,  the  clamoring  words  choked  on-  his 
dry  lips. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jessamine. 

He  did  not  know  it,  but  Duke  Walbridge's  heart  had 
put  itself  into  that  cry ;  its  hunger,  its  hope,  its  fear. 
Jessamine  heard  it.  She  was  a  woman ;  she  knew  what 
it  meant.  Her  heart  leaped  a  moment,  and  then  stead- 
ied itself.  What  was  there  to  shake  her  whole  being  like 
this  silent  storm?  Duke  Walbridge  would  never  say 
anything  to  her,  Jessamine  Holland,  that  she  should  be 
ashamed  or  afraid  to  hear.  Her  cheeks  were  brighter 
than  the  crimson  of  the  fire ;  but  her  voice  held  its  tones, 
—  those  tones  so  full  of  sweetness,  feeling  and  force  un- 
derlying all  the  sweetness. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Walbridge." 

The  next  moment  which  died  into  silence  strained  his 
soul  cruelly.  It  seems  to  me  that  such  a  moment  always 
must  a  man  like  Duke  Walbridge.  But  when  he  spoke 
his  voice,  too,  was  steady,  although  one  felt  the  passion- 
ate power  which  burned  under  the  low  words.  , 

He  was  standing  by  her  chair,  leaning  over  it ;  she 
could  hardly  tell  whether  there  were  touches  of  his  hand 
in  her  hair,  but  she  felt  his  fingers  close  to  it;  their 
faces  were  turned  away  so  that  neither  could  see  the 
other. 

"  Miss  Jessamine,  I  have  a  question  to  ask  you,  which 
I  have  never  asked  to  any  woman ;  it  is  one  which  con- 
cerns all  our  future,  —  a  question  the  most  vital  to  both 
of  us.  If  I  shall  ask  it,  whichever  way  you  answer,  will 
you  forgive  me?  " 


268  THE  HOLLANDS. 

She  knew  then  what  was  coming.  It  was  strange,  she 
remembered  it  afterward,  how  with  all  her  fluttering, 
most  maidenly,  most  natural,  with  her  cheeks  hot,  as 
though  the  flames  were  close  upon  them,  and  her  breath 
swift  as  one  that  leaps  away  from  pursuers,  a  great  cen- 
tral peace  and  calm  entered  into  her  soul. 

"I  promise  you." 

His  hand  —  no  —  it  was  not  that,  it  was  his  lips  drop- 
ping on  her  hair  a  kiss,  light  and  soft  as  the  dropping  of 
dews  through  starry  nights.  « 

"  You  have  given  me  the  courage  to  ask  the  question 
now,"  he  said;  but  he  did  not.  She  was  glad,  and  for 
him  it  seemed  better  to  wait  a  little  until  the  heat  had 
gone  out  of  his  brain  and  heart,  and  he  could  speak  or 
write  calmly ;  and  then,  too,  those  words  of  hers  had  set 
him  suddenly  in  a  great  heaven  of  hope.  He  drew  his 
breath  with  an  ecstasy  whose  joy  was  almost  pain; 
shining  horizons  were  all  around  him ;  he  was  a  young 
man,  and  the  maiden  who  sat  there  was  the  love  of  his 
youth.  ^ 

Then  they  turned,  as  by  some  mutual  instinct,  and 
looked  in  each  other's  faces,  these  two,  so  singularly 
fashioned  by  birthright  of  soul  for  comprehension,  for 
sympathy,  for  entering  into  each  other's  solemnest  moods, 
whether  of  grief  or  gladness,  into  all  thought,  aspiration, 
emotion,  —these  two,  standing  still  in  the  broad,  luminous 
country  of  their  youth,  —  these  two,  to  whom  love  would 
be  something  blessed,  holy,  immortal ;  which,  alas  !  it  is 
to  so  few  men  and  women  ! 

They  gazed  a  moment,  as  though  each  was  a  new  mir- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  269 

acle  to  the  other.  Each  face  was  stirred  and  luminous. 
For  an  instant  Duke  Walbridge  felt  that  the  right  moment 
to  speak  had  come  now.  He  opened  his  lips,  hut  the 
weight  of  joy  at  his  heart  pressed  down  the  words  and 
held  them  back. 

If  he  had  yielded,  and  spoken  then,  what  might  not 
have  been  saved  to  both  of  them  !  But  he  went  away, 
with  some  instinct  to  be  alone  with  his  own  soul  and  God 
just  then,  taking  his  leave  of  Jessamine  in  the  old, 
friendly  fashion,  clasping  her  hand  and  holding  it  a  mo- 
ment, and  adding  over  it  what  the  tones  made  a  prayer, 
"  God  bless  you  !  " 

She  was  alone  then,  once  more,  by  the  fire ;  but  what 
a  changed  world  it  had  grown  since  she  sat  there  in  just 
that  way  !  Yet  it  was  a  world  hardly  an  hour  older. 
Thoughts  of  her  childhood,  of  her  parents,  of  Ross,  of 
Hannah  Bray,  swayed  over  her,  and  then  everything  else 
was  swallowed  up  in  the  conviction  that  she  and  Duke 
Walbridge  loved  each  other.  What  did  that  mean  ?  It 
meant  being  one  in  heart  and  soul  —  it  meant  dwelling 
together  —  her  breath  gasping  under  the  weight  of  her 
thoughts.  She  remembered,  too,  Duke's  father  and 
mother,  and  sisters,  with  some  tenderness  quickening  in 
her  soul.  Would  they  be  glad  or  sorry  over  the  son  and 
brother's  choice  ? 

She  knew  —  this  little  Jessamine  —  the  things  they 
valued  chiefest,  — the  gold  and  the  place.  She  could 
bring  them  no  marriage  dowry  ;  but  she  knew  how  they 
loved  Duke,  and  she  hoped  for  his  sake  they  would  take 
her  into  the  family  heart. 


270  THE  HOLLANDS. 

At  last,  all  these  long,  swift  thoughts  drowned  them- 
selves in  slow,  happy  tears,  sliding  up  from  the  great  joy 
of  her  heart  into  her  eyes,  and  wetting  her  cheeks ;  and 
the  fire  grew  low,  humming  on  the  hearth,  and  gathered 
itself  slowly  up  into  gray  ashes,  and  the  broad  noon 
sunshine  warmed  the  room.  How  happy  she  was,  sitting 
there  all  alone  !  She  would  never  forget  that  hour.  It 
would  hold  its  light  aloft  over  all  her  future  life,  —  over 
all  the  cares  and  griefs  that  waited  below. 

What  would  Ross  say,  she  wondered,  her  thoughts 
slipping  off  again,  easily  as  tides  slip  up  bare  reaches,  of 
sandy  coast,  and  take  hold  upon  the  rocks  beyond. 
Would  he  be  willing  to  give  her,  his  little  Jessamine, 
even  to  his  dearest  friend  ?  or  would  he  only  feel  that  he 
had  been  rifled  of  the  best  treasure  of  his  life  ;  of  her  who 
had  said  so  often,  "I  shall  never  love  anybody  as  I 
love  you,  Ross  "  ? 

She  did  not  love  him  less  now ;  her  heart  had  only 
widened  to  take  in  that  other.  Was  she  good  enough, 
though,  for  this  great  gift  God  had  suddenly  dropped  into 
her  life  ?  All  that  only -He  and  Jessamine  knew  of  her 
faults  and  weaknesses  rose  up  before  her,  and  humbled 
her  with  an  awful  sense  of  ill-desert.  Let  Him  be  witness 
to  her  resolve  how  well  she  would  love,  how  wisely  she 
would  live  with  His  help  ;  the  slow  slipping  of  tears  upon 
her  cheeks,  from  great  deeps  of  her  soul,  broken  up,  and 
the  fire  dropping  as  slowly  out  of  its  bright,  swift,  strong 
life  into  dull;  gray  ashes,  just  as  our  own  lives  drop  with 
all  their  bright,  swift  strength  into  the  dark  silences  of 


THE  HOLLANDS.  271 

the  grave,  — only  one  part  of  our  lives,  "  the  meat  and 
the  raiment." 

At  last  the  clock  struck  noon.  The  girl  started  up  at 
the  strokes.  She  had  not  heard  the  low,  silvery  chimes 
until  now,  although  they  had  floated  across  the  room  for 
several  hours. 

As  she  passed  Mrs.  Kent's  room  on  the  way  to  her 
own,  the  lady,  hearing  the  footfalls,  called  her  in.  The 
young  matron  sat  there  in  her  pink  dressing-gown,  a 
picture  of  pretty,  seini-invalidism. 

"Isn't  it  delightful  to  have  a  holiday  once  in  six 
months,  Miss  Jessamine  ?  But  what  have  you  been 
doing  with  it?  "  she  asked. 

"  Not  much  of  anything,  I  believe,"  replied  Jessamine, 
thinking,  after  all,  that  this  had  been  the  most  wonderful 
day  of  her  life,  a  miracle  among  all  its  commonplace 
kin. 

"  Have  we  had  callers?  I  thought  I  heard  a  gentle- 
man's step  in  the  hall." 

"  Yes.     Mr.  Walbridge  was  here  for  some  time." 

It  was  nothing  surprising.  Duke  was  in  the  habit  of 
coming  to  the  Kent's,  and  of  course  he  would  call  soon 
after  his  return  home.  But  it  may  be  that  Jessamine 
paused  a  moment  before  she  answered,  or  that  some  con- 
sciousness throbbed  into  her  tones.  Mrs.  Kent  probably 
could  not  herself  tell  why  she  turned  and  looked  at  her 
friend.  But  she  did,  and  saw  something  in  Jessamine's 
face  which  she  would  also  have  found  it  hard  to  name. 
But  her  instincts  were- keen,  and,  though  she  said  nothing, 
U  suspicion  of  the  truth  entered  her  mind. 


272  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Notwithstanding  her  weakness  in  Greek,  which  had 
been  so  unfortunately  displayed  at  one  time,  Mrs.  Kent 
had  a  native  delicacy  which  prevented  any  utterance  of 
her  thoughts  on  this  matter,  even  in  a  jest. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  273 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THAT  night  Duke  Walbridge  wrote  a  letter  to  Jessa- 
mine Holland.  His  whole  soul  throbbed  in  every  word, 
for  he  was  too  proud  to  hold  anything  back ;  not  a  long 
letter,  but  its  passion  of  tenderness,  its  hope,  its  humility, 
were  of  the  sort  which  weld  themselves  into  brief  sen- 
tences, quick  with  life.  Whatever  her  answer -would  be, 
Duke  Walbridge  could  depend  on  the  soul  of  the  woman 
to  whom  his  soul  was  speaking.  He  did  not  woo  her  with 
any  soft  phrases,  with  any  lover's  fine  talk  and  flatteries; 
he  would  not  so  wrong  her ;  he  did  not  even  woo  her  with 
many  promises  ;  far  less  did  he  sue  abjectly  for  what  one 
felt  was  more  to  him  than  life.  He  wanted  no  gift  out  of 
her  pity  ;  if  there  was  no  voice  in  her  own  heart  to  plead  for 
him  more  eloquently  than  his  words,  then  Duke  Walbridge 
must  put  away  the  gift,  even  though  that  gift  were  the 
hand  of  Jessamine  Holland. 

Yet  he  left  her  in  no  doubt  what  she  could  be  to  him ; 
how  his  soul  needed  her,  as  souls  of  all  men  who  can  love 
highest  and  truest  need  the  soul  of  some  other  woman, 
after  their  own  kind,  as  Hamlet  needed  Ophelia,  as  Rom- 
ney  Leigh  needed  Aurora,  or  as  men  who  have  no  high 
gifts  nor  great  place  in  the  world  need  women  whose 


274  THE  HOLLANDS. 

purity  and  tenderness  shall  inspire  and  ennoble  whatever 
of  best  is  in  them. 

Yet  he  did  not  spare  himself.  Duke  Walbridge's 
worst  enemy  would  hardly  have  dealt  so  harshly  with  his 
faults  and  weaknesses  as  he  did,  as  only  he  would  do  it, 
too,  to  God  and  the  woman  that  he  loved,  —  there  being 
this  power  in  the  man,  his  better  self  could  always  look 
down  with  a  strong  scorn  on  his  lover,  few,  alas  !  having 
the  clear  vision  of  Duke  Walbridge. 

So  he  asked  her  if,  knowing  all  this,  his  pitiable  sin 
and  weakness,  she  could  come  to  his  need  and  help  him, 
not  for  pity's  sake,  but  for  love's.  If  she  could,  or  could 
not,  let  her  send  some  sign,  either  by'  words  or  silence, 
such  as  suited  her  best. 

He  laid  the  letter  aAvay,  when  it  was  finished,  in  his 
writing-cabinet,  locking  that,  and  tossing  the  key  into  a 
small  tray  of  carved  woods,  which  he  had  picked  up  in 
Switzerland,  and  then  a  new  calm  entered  his  soul, 
stilling  all  its  hot  fever  of  doubt  and  disquiet.  It  was  too 
late  to  send  the  letter  that  day,  he  would  -wait  until  the 
morrow. 

Meanwhile,  vigilant  eyes  kept  watch  on  him.  Edith 
Walbridge  had  managed  most  adroitly  to  keep  Duke  from 
visiting  the  Rents  for  nearly  a  week  after  their  return 
home.  But  the  delay  must  have  an  end,  and  even  Edith, 
with  all  her  skill,  could  not  have  succeeded  without  the 
co-operation  of  her  mother  and  other  sisters. 

He  had,  of  course,  no  suspicion  of  the  influences  at 
work  to  keep  him  from  Jessamine  Holland.  But  he 
would  make  his  own  opportunity  to  see  her.  Trust  Duke 


THE  HOLLANDS.  275 

Walbridge  for  accomplishing  that  on  which  he  had  set 
his  heart. 

Edith,  narrowly  watching,  saw  that  he  was  absent  at 
table  ;  if  he  jested  with  the  girls,  his  heart  was  not  in  it. 
She  knew  her  brother. 

Where  had  Duke  been  that  morning?  If  she  could 
only  keep  guard  over  him  all  the  time  ! 

Suddenly  Eva  spoke:  "  We  have  'none  of  us  called 
upon  Miss  Holland  since  our  return.  It  is  quite  too  bad. 
Duke,  will  you  drive  Kate  and  me  out  to  the  Kents  after 
dinner?" 

"I saw  Miss  Holland  this  morning,"  replied  Duke. 

"Oh,  you  did,"  thought  Edith.  "I  suspected  as 
much  from  your  manner,  young  man." 

Other  people  at  the  table  had  their  thoughts  too,  but 
each  one  kept  silent.  • 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  us  know  you  were  going,  so  that 
we  might  send  Miss  Holland  some  messages  ? ' '  said 
Kate,  who  was  in  the  family  secret,  and  quite  provoked 
that  her  brother  had  stolen  this  march  upon  them. 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,  Kate  ;  but  you  will  drive  out 
soon  and  take  them  yourself." 

"  Did  she  have  no  messages  for  us?  "  asked  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge,  who  would  have  found  it  a  slight  relief  to  her  feel- 
ings to  convict  Miss  Holland  of  a  want  of  courtesy,  in 
default  of  anything  stronger  to  bring  against  her. 

' '  She  made  very  kind  inquiries  after  you  all ;  but  she 
had  learned  of  our  return  two  days  ago,  and  naturally 
waited  to  hear  from  some  of  us. ' ' 

To  all  this  no  objection  could  be  urged.     Edith  sue- 


276  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ceeded  in  ascertaining  that  her  brother  had  not  seen  Mrs. 
Kent. 

"  Duke  and  Jessamine  must  have  had  a  long  tete-a-tete 
together,  then.  What  had  passed  between  them  ? ' ' 
She  scrutinized  him  more  narrowly  -than  ever. 

After  dinner  he  went  off  to  his  chair  with  a  book  ;  but 
he  did  not  read  it.  He  only  sat  there  silent  and 
absorbed. 

"  Why  didn't  you  come  downstairs  when  we  sent  for 
you  to  see  the  Murrays  —  the  first  time  they  have  called 
since  our  return?  "  asked  Gertrude. 

"Because"' — a  moment's  pause,  but  subterfuge  was 
not  in  Duke's  line  —  "I  had  some  writing  to  do,  and 
wished  to  finish  it." 

Edith  was  wide  awake.  What  writing  had  Duke  to 
do  important  enough  to  keep  him  upstairs  a  couple  of 
hours  after  his  return  from  a  call  on  Jessamine  Holland  ? 
She  was  alive  now  to  every  straw  that  blew  in  her  way. 

After  a  while  Duke  rose  up  and  went  out.  Edith 
went  also  to  the  door  and  listened,  she  hardly  could  have 
told  why,  but  she  heard  her  brother  inquire  of  the 
chambermaid  whether  John,  the  coachman,  had  come  in. 

Her  affirmative  sent  him  down  into  the  kitchen.  Edith 
had  never  constituted  herself  her  brother's  keeper,  but 
now  her  suspicions  were  all  alert. 

After  a  short  parley  with  the  coachman,  she  heard  her 
brother  go  out,  and  slipped  downstairs. 

"  John,  what  was  it  that  Mr.  Duke  wanted  of  you  just 
now  ? ' '  demanded  Edith  Walbridge  in  her  imperious 
way,  her  eyes  holding  the  man's  face. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  277 

He  shuffled  uneasily,  put  one  heavy  foot  before  the  other, 
shrugged  his  broad  shoulders,  and  at  last  stammered  out, 
"  I  —  he  said  I  was  to  say  nothing  about  it." 

John  was  fond  of  his  young  master,  and  wished  to  be 
loyal  to  him. 

"No  matter  what  he  said,  John;  he  wanted  you  to 
do  some  private  errand  for  him  to-morrow." 

It  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  resist  Edith  Walbridge, 
even  had  keener  wit  and  stronger  will  than  John  the 
coachman's  entered  the  lists  against  her. 

"As  you  knew  it  beforehand,  it  isn't  betrayin'  Mr. 
Duke  to  say  that  was  what  he  wanted." 

"  And  the  private  errand  was  to  go  out  to  the  Rents  ?  " 

"  You  seem  to  know  all  about  it,  Miss  Edith." 

John  was  no  little  perplexed  in  his  turn,  and  uncom- 
fortable, too,  betwixt  his  loyalty  to  Duke  and  his  awe  of 
the  imperious  young  woman. 

Edith  herself  was  a  little  startled  at  this  confirmation 
of  her  worst  fears.  "  John,"  she  continued,  with  the  tone 
and  air  of  a  lawyer  who  is  bent  on  frightening  a  reluct- 
ant witness  into  disclosing  whatever  facts  may  be  in  his 
possession,  "  did  Duke  tell  you  what  your  errand  was  to 
be  at  the  Kents?" 

John  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  "No,  on  my 
honor,  Miss  Edith,  he  never  breathed  a  word  there.  He 
only  said  I  was  to  ride  out  for  him  the  first  thing  in  the 
morning.  I  should  know  what  the  errand  was  when  the 
time  came." 

Edith  was  satisfied  that  she  had  forced  out  of  bungling, 
good-natured  John,  —  who  was  much  more  at  home  man- 


278  THE  HOLLANDS. 

aging  a  vicious  horse,  than  he  was  with  an  intriguing 
woman,  —  all  that  he  had  to  tell. 

With  a  peremptory  charge  not  to  repeat  a  syllable  of 
her  questions  to  her  brother,  Edith  went  upstairs  slowly. 
She  paused  a  moment,  doubtfully,  at  the  drawing-room 
door,  and  listened  to  the  merry  hum  inside,'  and  then,  her 
face  settling  into  something  hard  and  dark,  she  brought 
down  her  clenched  hand  on  the  .knob.  ' '  I  shall  ask  no- 
body 's  advice  at  this  crisis.  I  shall  act  at  once.  The 
time  is  short  now;  "  and  she  went  on  with  her  dark,  res- 
olute face,  past  her  own  room  to  her  brother's. 

The  door  here  was  always  unlocked.  The  gas  through 
the  ground  glass  made  a  light  like  that  of  misty  moon- 
shine through  the  room.  Edith  went  straight  to  the 
cabinet,  found  the  key  lying  loose  in  the  tray.  Duke 
Walbridge.  would  as  soon  thought '  of  hiding  his  purse 
from  his  mother  and  sisters,  lest  they  should  pilfer  its 
contents,  as  to  dream  of  their  using  the  key  to  his  cabinet 
during  his  absence. 

Edith's  heart  beat  fast.  She  had  never  felt  like  a 
thief  before  in  her  life.  She  had  to  say  to  her  conscience, 
"  I  am  compelled  to  do  it ;  Duke  has  no  right  to  sacri- 
fice his  whole  family  to  that  miserable  girl." 

Then,  with  steady  fingers,  she  set  the  key  in  the  lock, 
and  turned  it.  She  opened  the  drawer,  and  in  a  few 
moments'  search  drew  out  the  letter,  laid  carefully  away 
in  the  box,  in  one  corner,  the  letter  not  yet  so  much  as 
folded. 

Edith  brightened  the  light,  and,  standing  there,  she 
went  over  all  that  Duke  had  written  to  Jessamine  Hoi- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  279 

land,  line  by  line,  word  by  word ;  her  breath  coming 
faster,  her  face  growing  whiter  all  the  time.  When  she 
was  done,  she  sat  down  in  a  chair.  "It  is  worse  than  I 
thought,"  she  said.  "He  loves  her  like  that  —  like 
that !  "  the  words  coming  slowly,  as  though  each  one 
hung  a  weight  upon  her  lips. 

Then  she  sat  silent.  No  need  to  strain  her  ear  for  a 
footstep.  Duke's  tread  along  the  hall  always  rung  loud 
and  swift,  and  he  would  not  be  likely  to1'  return  soon. 

She  saw  the  stars  holy  and  bright,  and  afar  off. 
What  wonder  her  brother  had  carried  his  burdened 
thoughts  and  heart  out  to  their  great  silence  and  sym- 
pathy !  Something  unsteady,  something  like  trouble 
or  relenting,  came  into  Edith's  face.  Such  a  letter 
—  the  story  of  such  a  love,  wrought  its  magic  on 
her  for  a  while.  She  had  had  lovers  and  offers,  plenty 
of  them.  She  thought  of  that  now,  but  not  with  any 
swell  of  vanity  or  exultation  ;  she  only  thought  that  no 
one  of  those  had  ever  wooed  her,  had  ever 'loved  her  as 
her  brother  had  wooed  and  loved  this  Jessamine  Holland, 
and  a  pang  of  remorse  smote  the  girl,  as  she  thought  of 
the  two  lives  she  would  deliberately  wreck,  if  she  reached 
out  her»hands  between  them. 

She  looked  at  them  for  a  moment,  lying  by  the  letter 
in  her  lap.  "  White,  unclean  hands,"  they  seemed  to  her 
just  then,  with  all  their  fairness!  "It  is  a  miserable 
work,"  she  said.  "  I  am  half  minded  to  leave  them  alone, 
and  let  Duke  'gang  his  ain  gate,'  even  if  that  does  lead 
away  from  Margaret  Wheatley." 

I  want  you  to  remember,  in  all  that  happened  after- 


280  THE  HOLLANDS. 

| 

ward,  that  Edith  Walbridge  said  this  once  —  said  it  alone, 
and  honestly  to  her  own  soul. 

But  the  name  of  Margaret  Wheatley  seemed  a  spell 
which  supplanted  the  hold  that  Duke's  letter  had  briefly 
taken  of  her  feelings. 

The  old  instincts,  the  old  reasoning,  swayed  back  on 
Edith  Walbridge.  She  remembered  the  wealth,  position, 
not  only  for  himself,  but  for  his  family,  which  were  all 
at  stake  at  this  moment. 

What  were  the  dreams  of  a  romantic  young  man  in 
comparison  ? 

Duke  would  get  over  his  love,  and  be  happier  in  the 
end,  and  just  a  million  times  better  off  with  Margaret 
Wheatley  than  he  would  with  Jessamine  Holland.  He 
was  an  only  son  and  brother.  Surely  he  owed  something 
to  his  mother  and  sisters. 

The  girl's  face  grew  harder  and  darker.  "  I  have  said 
that  Duke  never  should  marry  this  Jessamine  Holland," 
she  muttered  to  herself,  "  and  I  am  not  going  to  back  down 
now." 

Then  she  rose  up  and  went  out,  doubting  whether  she 
had  better  admit  any  of  her  sisters  to  her  secret,  and  con- 
cluding that  now,  when  the  matter  had  grown  so.serious, 
she  would  confide  the  whole  only  to  her  mother. 

A  little  sign  brought  Mrs.  Walbridge  up  to  her  daugh- 
ter's room  within  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour. 

The  lady  listened  in  silence  to  all  that  Edith  related, 
for  the  girl  made  a  clean  breast  of  the  method  by  which 
she  had  obtained  Duke's  secret,  and  concluded  by  reading 
his  letter  to  Jessamine  Holland. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  281 

"  What  do  you  think  of  all  that,  mamma?  " 

"  Think,  Edith  !  There  is  no  help  for  it !  The  boy 
is  lost !  My  boy,  on  whom  I  had  set  my  pride,  my  hopes  ! 
Would  to  God  she  had  never  entered  our  house  !  I  am  a 
wretched  woman  !  " 

For  once  Mrs.  Walbridge  broke  through  all  her  habits 
of  well-bred  restraint,  and  was  honestly  dramatic.  The 
blow  went  deep ;  yet  she  had  a  mother's  heart,  and  for 
the  time,  at  least,  she  felt  that  a  love  like  Duke's  must 
not  be  sacrificed  to  any  ambitions.  If  she  pitied  herself, 
she  pitied  her  boy  also. 

Edith's  voice  recalled  her ;  the  younger  woman  calmest 
and  clearest  now. 

"  There  is  no  use  sitting  still  and  wringing  our  hands, 
mamma.  What  we  do  must  be  done  without  delay." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  do,"  answered  the  mother,  melting 
down  into  tears.  "  Before  such  a  letter  as  that,  one  is 
utterly  helpless.  The  thing  is  done,  Edith." 

"  No,  it  isn't  done  while  I  have  any  sense  left  to  plan 
and  circumvent,"  answered  the  daughter,  grimly  reso- 
lute. 

"Why,  Edith,  my  child,  what  will  you  do?  Under 
any  other  circumstances,  I  should  say  you  have  already 
gone  too  far." 

"  Mother,  I  have  said  that  Duke  Walbridge  should  never 
marry  Jessamine  Holland.  I  meant  it  then  — I  mean  it 
now;"  her  voice  slow  and  steady,  like  one  who  carries  a 
fixed  purpose  along  it. 

"  What  can  you  do,  Edith  ?  "  again  inquired  the  mother. 
"There  is  that  letter." 


282  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  I  do  not  mean  that  Jessamine  Holland  shall  ever  see 
this  letter,"  answered  still  and  steadily,  with  weights 
of  will  hanging  upon  each  word,  the  voice  of  Edith 
Walbridge. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  283 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

% 

IN  the  portrait  which  I  have  endeavored  to  draw  of 
Mrs.  Walbridge,  that  lady  would  be  the  last  to  recognize 
her  own  lineaments.  The  faintest  suggestion  that  she 
formed  the  prototype  of  this  picture  would  amaze  and 
shock  her ;  she  would  honestly  regard  herself  as  the  most 
injured  and  maligned  of  women;  nay,  more,  she  would 
promptly  and  indignantly  denounce  the  course  which,  in 
real  life,  and  under  the  pressure  of  strong  temptation,  she 
sanctioned,  if  she  did  not  actively  promote. 

Ah  !  if  one  only  had,  as  Mrs.  Stowe  says,  "a  relay  of 
bodies,"  and  could  step  from  one  into  another,  and  con  tem- 
plate quietly  one's  own  part  in  this  great,  swift  drama  of 
human  life,  how  much  wiser  and  soberer  we  should  all 
grow,  with  the  new  perspective  and  the  wider  reach  of 
vision  !  But  Mrs.  Walbridge  had  wrought  herself  up  into 
a  state  of  mind  which  could  only  see  things  from  one 
stand-point,  and  that  one,  herself,  a  disappointed,  dis- 
tressed, outraged  mother  ;  her  only  son  about  to  sacrifice 
himself,  the  victim  of  an  artful,  designing  girl,  who  had 
abused  all  the  claims  which  her  brother's  deed  gave  her 
on  the  family  gratitude,  by  ingratiating  herself  into  the 
young  man's  affections,  thereby  blighting  the  hopes  of  two 


284  THE  HOLLANDS. 

households,  and  breaking  the  heart  of  the  girl  who  had 
loved  him  from  her  childhood,  and  who  alone  had  the  right 
to  become  his  wife.  Thus  Mrs.  Walbridge  reasoned,  — 
in  a  rather  dramatic  way,  it  must  be  admitted,  for  a 
woman  of  her  repose  and  dignity;  but,  then,  the  finest 
and  calmest  of  us,  even  to  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere  her- 
self, can  be  dramatic  under  sufficient  pressure.  So,  when 
Edith  avowed  strongly  her  determination  of  never  letting 
Jessamine  Holland  see  that  letter  of  Duke's,  the  mother 
looked  at  her  daughter,  startled  and  amazed ;  but  no  words 
of  indignant  horror  shamed  the  girl  into  silence  before  her 
deed,  set  her  face  to  face  with  its  sin  and  guilt. 

"  Edith,  do  you  know  what  you  are  saying,  or  are  you 
going  distraught  with  all  this  misery?"  stammered  the 
mother. 

' '  No.  Look  at  me,  and  see,  mamma.  I  was  never 
cooler  in  my  life  ;  and  there  is  need  enough  of  it,  —  one 
wants  steady  brain  and  calm  nerves  now ;  but,  I  say  it 
again,  you  shall  never  see  this  letter,  Jessamine 
Holland!" 

There  was  no  doubt  Edith  Walbridge  knew  what  she 
was  doing,  though  her  eyes  blazed  out  as  she  threw  the 
letter  on  the  floor,  and  set  her  foot  on  it,  sure  that  the 
small,  delicate  shoe  would  leave  no  trace  of  itself  on  the 
paper.  Had  it  been  Jessamine  Holland's  neck,  at  that 
moment,  it  seemed  to  her  she  could  have  stamped  with  a 
better  will. 

"  Jessamine  Holland  not  see  the  letter  !  "  repeated  her 
mother,  still  staring  at  her  daughter. 

"I  have  said  so,"   continued  Edith;    "and  I  am  not 


THE  HOLLANDS.  .         285 

given  to  rash  promises.  I  have  rather  expected  the  con- 
summation would  take  this  form,  and  I  have  prepared 
myself  to  meet  it — though  there  was  no  telling  —  it 
might  have  been  some  other,  and  then  I  must  have  laid 
my  train  differently.  On  the  whole,  I  am  glad  that  it  is 
a  letter.  Get  that  in  one's  hand,  and  one  is  master  of 
the  situation:  and  once  destroyed,  the  thing  tells  no  tales. 
If  Duke  had  spoken  to  her,  it  would  have  been  much  more 
difficult  to  deal  with  the  thing,  though  even  then  lr  weald 
not  have  despaired." 

She  had  lifted  the  letter  now,  and  was  carefully  smooth- 
ing a  wrinkle  in  it,  talking,  it  seemed,  less  to  her  mother 
than  to  herself. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  felt  an  involuntary  shiver  all  over  her. 
She  began  to  see  darkly  into  this  talk  of  her  daughter, 
and  she  felt  a  sensation  much  as  though  she  were  standing 
on  the  brink  of  some  awful  precipice,  and  a  chill  wind 
came  out  of  the  darkness,  and  blew  upon  her.  She  drew 
close  to  her  daughter ;  her  lips  were  white,  as  she  laid 
her  hand  on  the  girl's  arm  and  whispered,  "  Edith, 
tell  your  mother  what  this  is  you  intend  to  do." 

Even  Edith  glanced  around  the  room  a  little  nervous- 
ly, as  though,  as  absurd  as  the  idea  was,  she  half-feared 
there  might  be  some  one  listening  in  the  corners.  Then 
she  drew  nearer  to  her  mother,  and  in  a  low  undertone, 
yet  in  a  strong,  rapid,  excited  way,  went  over  the  plan 
which  she  had  been  maturing  for  several  days.  "  The 
first  thing  was  to  make  certain  that  that  letter  should 
never  fall  into  Jessamine  Holland's  hands." 

"But,    Edith,"   interrupted  her   mother,  in   a  voice 


286  THE  HOLLANDS. 

whose  rapid  impatience  did  not  seem  like  the  calm,  smooth 
voice  of  Mrs.  Walbridge,  "  how  are  you  going  to  prevent 
this  ?  Duke  will  certainly  find  out  the  — ' '  There  was  a 
pause ;  the  lady  was  not  fond  of  strong,  unflinching  words, 
which  set  a  fact  right  before  one,  stripped  of  all  its  guises. 
"What  you  have  done  —  and  you  know  your  brother! 
I  shudder  to  think  of  the  consequences  of  his  learning 
that  his  mother  or  his  sisters  have  deceived  him." 

"  No,  Duke  won't  find  it  out  either,"  exclaimed  Edith, 
with  great  energy.  "Do  you  think  I  shall  play  the 
desperate  game,  into  which  I  am  forced,  so  poorly?  " 

"  0  Edith,  it  is  a  miserable  thing,  looked  at  from 
any  side.  I  feel  quite  powerless  over  its  magnitude.  I 
do  not  know  what  to  advise  —  what  to  do." 

"Well,"  continued  Edith,  resolutely,  "it  is  no  time 
now  to  sit  still  and  fold  our  hands,  and  deplore  the  state 
of  affairs.  This  letter  once  in  Jessamine  Holland's 
hands,  the  thing  is  done.  She  will  be  Duke's  betrothed 
wife  within  twenty-four  hours  if  we  do  not  interfere. 
You  see  that,  mamma?  " 

"Yes,  I  see  that  only  too  clearly,"  sighed  the  moth- 
er. 

"I've  made  up  my  mind,"  continued  Edith,  " that  my 
brother  shall  not  sacrifice  himself  and  his  family,  and 
the  woman  who,  I  have  not  a  doubt,  really  loves  him. 
without  my  making  an  effort  to  save  him.  The  case  is 
desperate,  and  it  won't  do  to  be  squeamish  about  the 
means." 

Silence  on  the  mother's  part  made  assent  to  the  daugh- 
ter's speech. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  287 

"There  is  but  one  way  open.  Duke  must  suppose 
that  Jessamine  Holland  has  received  his  letter,  while, 
instead  of  ever  coming  into  that  young  lady's  hands,  it 
must  go  into  the  flames." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  started,  and  her  face  grew  paler. 
"  Edith,  my  child,  do  you  know  where  you  are  tread- 
ing?" 

"  Precisely,  mamma.  But  I  am  my  brother's  sister, 
and  intend  to  save  him  from  the  effects  of  his  own 
folly." 

That  was  l '  putting  it ' '  most  plausibly,  hiding  all  the 
ugly  facts  behind  this  flimsy  gossamer  of  specious 
words. 

"But  if  the  letter  is  destroyed,  Duke  will  be  certain 
to  find  it  out.  A  man  who  loves  a  woman  as  we  see  he 
must,  will  not  easily  give  her  up." 

"I  do  not  so  read  Duke,  mamma.  You  know  his 
Quixotic  ideas  about  love ;  and  his  pride  and  sensitiveness 
would  both  come  to  my  aid  in  keeping  him  from  pressing 
his  suit.  Once  believing  that  Jessamine  Holland  has 
read  this  letter,  any  coolness  or  silence  on  her  part  will 
be  interpreted  as  a  rejection  of  his  offer.  Once,  and 
only  once,  would  Duke  Walbridge  lay  bare  his  heart  like 
this  to  the  woman  of  his  love.  I  know  him.  The 
stronger  his  affection,  the  less  he  would  be  likely  to  urge 
it,  if  he  deemed  her  reluctant.  He,  suing  and  pleading 
for  any  woman's  love,  without  she  could  give  it  to  him 
freely,  absolutely,  joyfully !  I  think  he  would  go  first 
to  the  scaffold." 

This  reasoning  evidently  made  a  good  deal  of  impres- 


288  THE  HOLLANDS. 

sion  on  the  mother.  -  She^sat  thoughtful  for  several 
moments  before  she  added,  "But  you  forget  that  the 
two  must  be  constantly  meeting,  and  that  Duke  must 
certainly  discover  by  Miss  Holland's  manner  that  she 
has  never  received  his  letter?  " 

A  dark  smile  came  into  the  girl's  handsome  face. 
"Do  you  think  me  so  short-sighted,  mamma?  Edith 
Walbridge  tie  her  bag  in  that  loose  fashion  !  " 

"Well,  Edith,  what  next?"  impatient  and  anxious. 

"It  is  evident  enough,  from  this  letter,  that  whatever 
he  may  have  given  the  girl  reason  to  suspect,  Duke  has 
not  really  committed  himself.  He  must  have  come 
mighty  close  to  it  this  morning  ;  but,  luckily,  some  good 
fate  held  him  back.  Now,  my  plan  is  to  see  Miss  Hol- 
land before  another  sun  sets,  and  acquaint  her  of  Duke's 
engagement  with  Margaret  Wheatley.  I  shall  find  some 
way  of  bringing  it  in  naturally  and  easily,  so  she  will 
suspect  nothing.  And  I  know  my  young  woman  also ; 
and,  although  I  do  most  cordially  hate  her,  I  am  very 
certain  she,  too,  has  some  high  notions  of  honor  which 
will  not  permit  her,  whatever  she  may  feel,  to  be  any 
woman's  rival.  Of  course  all  such  stuff  is  purely  ab- 
surd ;  still,  I  have  no  disposition  to  quarrel  with  it  where 
it  so  well  serves  my  turn.  The  next  thing  is  to  get  the 
two  out  of  each  other's  way,  so  that  there  will  be  no 
chance  for  meetings  and  mutual  explanations.  Duke 
must  be, sent  off  Avithout  delay,  mamma." 

"  But  that  is  more  easily  said  than  done,  Edith.  He 
will  not  be  likely  to  go  without  some  most  excellent 
reason." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  289 

"  That  is  precisely  what«you  and  I  must  find,  —  a  most 
'excellent  reason.'  If  I  can  get  the  matter  so  far  in 
train,  I'll  trust  to  luck  and  my  native  wits  to  manage 
any  further  complications  that  may  arise.  I'm  taking  a 
precious  deal  of  trouble  for  your  sake,  Duke  Wai- 
bridge." 

But  if  Edith  could  have  looked  all  her  motives  in  the 
face,  she  would  have  found  that  it  was  not  so  much  for 
her  brother's  sake  as  her  own  that  she  had  been  plotting 
and  weaving  through  all  these  days  and  nights,  until  at 
last  the  snares  were  set,  and  the  net  made  ready  for  its 
victims. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  stared  at  Edith  with  some  new,  half- 
terrified  sense  of  her  eldest  daughter's  power.  She  her- 
self would  never  have  been  equal  to  projecting  a  scheme 
of  this  kind ;  and,  to  do  her  justice,  she  was  above  it 
morally. 

You  may  remember  that  I  said  long  ago  that  Edith 
was  her  mother's  superior  in  force  of  character.  She 
was  to  prove  that  now. 

With  all  her  dignity  and  conventional  judgment,  Mrs. 
Walbridge  was  not  a  woman  for  strong  emergencies,  for 
startling  and  unusual  conjunctions.  In  certain  grooves, 
the  lady  could  go  through  her  part  in  the  drama  of  life 
with  a  charming  dignity  and  propriety,  always  equal  to 
the  occasion,  always  a  pleasing  and  harmonious  figure. 

But  this  human  life  of  ours,  which  we  have  pieced  out 
so  carefully  into  some  pretty  mosaic,  is  suddenly  broken 
up  with  some  great  earthquake  shock,  and  the  colors 
about  which  we  have  busied  our  souls,  setting  them  after 

'    25 


290  THE  HOLLANDS. 

* 

the  right  pattern,  are  all  tumbled  together,  as  when  a 
wind  swept  over  the  block  steeples  and  houses  of  our 
childhood. 

So  Mrs.  Walbridge  found  the  walls  tumbling  about 
her  ears.  Her  old  grooves,  her  pretty  conventional  codes, 
would  not  serve  her  now ;  and  these  had  stood  to  her  in 
place  of  the  eternal  God  over  her  head. 

In  her  sudden  dismay,  looking  on  every  side  and  find- 
ing no  help,  and  having  wrought  herself  up  into  a  belief 
that  her  son  was  about  to  plunge  headlong  into  a  mar- 
riage, sacrificing  himself  and  his  family,  almost  any  deed 
which  would  save  him  from  the  lifelong  effects  of  his 
madness  seemed  justifiable  in  her  eyes.  Her  partialities 
and  prejudices  confused  and  blinded  her  moral  vision. 

After  all,  reader,  can  you  and  I  say  much  more  of 
ourselves  ?  If  we  can,  we  are  a  great  deal  better  than 
most  people  whom  I  know,  —  very  good  people  too. 

Yet  Mrs.  Walbridge' s  vision  saw  quite  far  enough 
through  the  mists  and  murk  for  her  own  ease.  Nervous 
and  tearful,  in  a  way  strongly  contrasted  with  her  usual 
composure,  she  exclaimed,  "  0  Edith,  it  is  a  miser- 
able, miserable  thing,  from  beginning  to  end  —  all  this 
deception  and  intrigue.  It  terrifies  me  to  think  of  it." 

"It  terrifies  me  more  to  look  the  other  way,  and  see 
where  we  shall  all  be  if  something  isn't  done  to  prevent 
it." 

Poor  little  Jessamine  Holland  !  What  terrible  dismay 
and  misery  was  that  innocent  young  head  going  to  bring 
into  the  Walbridge  family ;  and  yel,  if  she  had  only  had 
a  fortune  that  equalled  Margaret  Wheatley's,  Duke 


THE  HOLLANDS.  291 

would   have   found    no   obstacles    in   the   way   of    his 
choice. 

Mr.  "Walbridge's  entrance  put  a  sudden  end  to  the  con- 
sultation of  the  ladies.  He  was  a  little  out  of  humor 
that  evening,  having  received  letters  from  the  West 
regarding  some  extensive  mining  speculations  which  he 
had  made  in  the  territories.  The  matter  required  his 
immediate  presence  there,  and  the  prospect  of  a  journey 
to  Oregon  was  not  agreeable  to  a  man  of  his  age  and 
plethoric  habits. 

Edith  caught  suddenly  at  this  grumbling  talk  with, 
"  Pa,  why  couldn't  you  send  Duke  out  now  ?  He  could 
at  least  look  up  your  interests  ;  and,  as  you  say,  a  jour- 
ney across  half  a  continent  is  an  awful  undertaking  at 
your  time  of  life,  —  wretched  hotels,  and  more  wretched 
meals.  Duke  is  young,  and  ought  to  enjoy  the  whole 
trip." 

Her  father  grumbled  something  about,  "  'Twas  all 
very  well  for  women  to  talk,  but  Duke  knew  nothing 
about  the  business." 

But  Edith  understood  all  her  father's  weak  points,  and 
always  slipped  easily  among  his  angularities.  One  of 
these  days  she  would  do  just  so  with  her  husband,  where 
a  far  higher  principled  women  might  have  come  up 
point-blank  against  his  obstinacies,  and  thence  ensued  the 
old  tale  of  domestic  misery. 

So  Edith  proceeded  to  draw  a  picture  of  a  journey  to 
Oregon,  holding  up  the  discomforts  by  night  and  by  day, 
in  colors  that  made  her  father's  nerves  twin'ge  and  his 
bones  ache. 


292  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Then  Mrs.  Walbridge  brought  up  her  forces  to  the  res- 
cue by  informing  him  that  his  son  was  on  the  eve  of 
plunging  himself  into  irretrievable  ruin  by  marrying  be- 
neath him,  and  that  the  only  hope  of  saving  the  boy  from 
wrecking  himself  was  to  get  him  away  from  the  object  of 
his  unhappy  devotion. 

Mr.  Walbridge  stared  at  this  announcement,  and 
hemmed  several  times.  Jessamine  Holland  had  always 
been  rather  a  favorite  with  the  elderly  gentleman ;  and 
when  it  came  to  a  daughter-in-law  he  would  have  welcomed 
her  w'th  as  stately  a  bow  and  as  fatherly  a  kiss  as  he 
would  the  banker's  daughter.  Fond  as  the  man  was  of 
money,  he  had  fancied  that  the  easiest  or  surest  method 
of  possessing  it  was  not  by  marrying  a  rich  woman.  But 
in  a  matter  which  concerned  her  son  and  daughters  Mrs. 
Walbridge's  influencu  was  all-powerful.  It  was  enough 
that  she,  backed  by  Edith,  disapproved  of  Duke's  choice, 
and  declared  herself  the  most  miserable  of  women  should 
he  take  to  wife  any  other  than  Margaret  Wheatley. 

Amidst  the  energetic  talk  of  both  women,  the  man  did 
interpose  once  with,  "But,  my  dear,  money  is  not  the 
only  desirable  thing  in  a  wife.  You  know  I  married  you 
with  very  little." 

"  That  is  an  entirely  different  matter,  Mr.  Walbridge," 
his  wife  answered,  in  a  tone  that  implied  the  difference 
was  patent  to  blind  eyes.  Mr.  Walbridge  took  this  for 
granted,  although  he  could  not  exactly  see  the  point. 

Perhaps  the  lady  was  not  altogether  unconscious  of 
some  inherent  weakness  in  her  remark ;  for  her  next 
movement  was  a  masterpiece  of  feminine  strategy.  "I 


THE  HOLLANDS.  293 

never  expected,  Mr.  Walbridge,  that  at  this  day  you  would 
accuse  me,  the  mother  of  your  children,  of  not  bringing 
you  a  fortune  !  "  in  a  tone  nicely  balanced  between  injury 
and  indignation. 

"  My  dear,  how  absurd  !  " —  a  good  deal  flustered ;  for 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walbridge  were  not  in  that  habit  of  petty 
bickering,  which  eats  out  the  happiness  of  so  "many  married 
people.  "  You  know  I  could  not  have  intended  anything 
of  that  sort." 

"  Well,  pa,  I  must  admit  it  sounded  very  much  as 
though  you  did,"  interposed  Edith,  who  felt  it  best  to 
support  her  mother  on  every  point  to-night. 

Mr.  Walbridge  muttered  something  about  "  women  al- 
ways finding  bugbears  where  nobody  else  thought  of  them. ' ' 
But  if  he  was  a  little  crosser,  he  was  a  little  more  plastic 
in  their  hands,  and  at  any  rate  the  women  carried  their 
point  that  Duke  was,  if  possible,  to  be  prevailed  upon  to 
undertake  the  journey  to  his  father's  mining  lands. 

Edith  did  not  induct  her  father  deeper  into  the  plot. 
He  had  some  notions  of  business  honor  that  he  might  carry 
into  other  matters  ;  and  as  to  surreptitiously  possessing 
one's  self  of  a  man's  love-letter,  and  destroying  it,  leaving 
him  all  the  time  to  suppose  that  the  woman  of  his  seeking 
had  received  and  scorned  it,  —  even  Mrs.  Walbridge  would 
find  it  difficult  to  convince  her  husband  was  doing  just  the 
right  thing. 

He,  at  one  time  during  this  interview,  avowed  his  deter- 
mination of  "  not  setting  about  breaking  up  the  thing  in 
this  underhand  way.  He  would  have  a  talk  with  Duke, 
and  put  the  whole  thing  before  him  in  a  reasonable  light." 


294  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  Pa,"  said  Edith,  lifting  up  both  her  hands,  "  if  you 
are  bent  on  this  marriage,  heart  and  soul,  you  will  have 
no  difficulty  in  accomplishing  it  in  that  way." 

' :  Talk  reasonably  with  a  man  who  is  in  love,  Mr. 
Walbridge !  I  have  always  hitherto  regarded  you  as  a 
remarkably  sensible  man,"  added  his  wife,  in  a  tone  of 
solemn  despair. 

The  man  hemmed  again  two  or  three  times,  and  at  last 
went  off  to  his  paper,  thinking  this  a  matter  which  the 
women  would  best  manage,  and  with  a  rather  uncomfort- 
able consciousness  of  the  lack  of  masculine  tact  in  general. 

Edith  returned  to  Duke's  chamber,  and  placed  his  letter 
back  in  the  drawer,  precisely  where  she  had  found  it. 
"  There'!  I  think  you  will  tell  no  tales  now,"  she  said, 
locking  the  drawer. 

An  hour  later  Duke  returned,  and  read  over  the 
precious  letter  for  the  first  time  since  he  had  written  it. 

His  heart  beat  high,  and  his  face  grew  hot  as  a  bashful 
girl's  over  her  first  love-letter.  It  was  Duke's  first  too, 
and  Edith  was  right,  —  "it  told  no  tales." 

The  next  moment  John  had  his  orders  very  clearly 
from  his  young  master.  He  was  to  take  a  letter  over  to 
the  Kents,  and  deliver  it  into  Miss  Holland's  hands.  He 
need  not  wait  for  an  answer. 

Afterward,  John  presented  himself,  in  accordance  with 
his  promise,  at  Miss  Edith's  door.  He  could  not  tell  why, 
but  he  would  certainly  have  given  considerable  to  be  away 
from  it  at  that  moment.  The  young  lady, was  evidently 
expecting  him.  "Well,  John,  what  did  Duke  say?" 
was  her  first  salutation. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  295 

11 1  was  to  deliver  the  letter  into  Miss  Holland's  hands 
and  no  others.  I  was  not  to  wait  for  an  answer." 

"  Let  me  see  the  letter,  will  you,  John  ?  " 

What  could  he  do?  Refuse  the  beautiful,  imperious 
woman  standing  there  ?  It  would  take  stouter  moral  fibre 
than  the  coachman's  to  do  that.  Yet  John  was  certainly 
conscious  of  another  uncomfortable  feeling,  as  the  letter 
passed  out  of  his  hands.  Edith  was  standing  by  her  table, 
and  for  some  reason  the  coachman's  eyes  watched  her 
keenly. 

She  turned  her  back  to  him.  There  was  a  window 
opposite.  It  would  seem  that  she  wanted  to  see  the  ad- 
dress in  a  strong  light ;  but  the  watchful  man  somehow 
fancied  that  her  hand  went  down  on  the  table,  and  that  she 
took  up  something  lying  there.  Did  she  put  something 
down  also  ? 

What  business  had  John  with  such  questions  ?  Yet  they 
came  into  his  brain,  —  not  a  wondrously  acute  one  either. 

She  read  the  address  out  loud,  but  in  a  low  tone,  as 
though  to  herself,  then  turned  toward  John,  and  held  out 
the  letter  with  a  smile. 

11  Here  it  is,  John.  I  want  you  to  accommodate  me  in 
a  very  small  matter,  and  in  the  end  you  shall  not  be  sorry 
for  it.  " 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  stammered  John,  with  one  of  his  best 
bows.  That  smile,  half-coaxing,  half-imperious,  had  cap- 
tivated far  stronger  wits  than  the  humble  serving-man's. 

"  I  want  you  should,  as  Duke  said,  deliver  this  letter 
only  into  Miss  Holland's  hands,  saying  simply  it  is  one 
which  you  have  brought  from  our  house,  and  requires  no 


296  THE  HOLLANDS. 

answer.  You  are  to  mention  nobody's  name.  You  un- 
derstand me,  John?" 

11  Yes,  ma'am;  only  —  only  Mr.  Duke's  orders  were,  I 
should  say  he  sent  the  letter." 

"  Oh,  well !  That  will  make  no  difference.  You  will 
obey  his  orders  just  the  same."- 

"No,  ma'am,  if  you  say  it  doesn't," — answering  her 
first  clause. 

"  Well,  then,  it  is  settled.  And  further,  John,  you  are 
never  to  repeat  to  Duke,  or  anybody  else,  that  I  have 
spoken  to  you  regarding  this  letter.  You  understand  that 
clearly?  "  And  despite  its  softness  a  little  menace  slipped 
into  her  tones. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  understand,"  again  answered  John. 

"  Well,  then,  there  is  no  more  to  be  said." 

John  breathed  freer  when  he  got  out  of  that  beautiful 
presence.  When  he  looked  at  the  letter  in  his  hand,  he 
found  a  five-dollar  note  wrapped  around  it. 

The  amount  of  her  reward  for  John's  services  had  been 
a  matter  of  considerable  doubt  with  Edith  Walbridge. 

She  was  ready  to  pay  high  for  them  ;  but  the  thing 
which  he  was  to  do  was  really  so  slight  that  it  was  not 
best  to  excite  his  suspicions,  by  setting  so  trifling  an  act 
at  such  high  value. 

John  pocketed  the  money  after  glancing  at  it ;  but  he 
scrutinized  the  letter  long  and  earnestly.  He  had,  either 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  examined  the  address  when 
Duke  placed  the  letter  in  his  hand,  and  he  was  familiar 
with  the  young  man's  bold,  rapid  characters.  These 
were  not  the  same.  They  were  finer  and  smoother. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  297 

Away  down  in  his  soul.  John  did  not  believe  that  this 
was  the  letter  which  Duke  Walbridge  had  placed  in  his 
hands.  When  the  young  lady  had  turned  her  back  to 
him  as  she  stood  by  the  table,  had  she  taken  up  an- 
other letter,  and  was  this  the  one  which  she  had  given 
John,  which  he  now  held  in  his  hands,  and  which  he  was 
to  deliver  to  Jessamine  Holland  ? 

The  coachman  tried  to  ward  off  these  uncomfortable 
questions.  They  somehow  made  him  feel  he  was  doing 
his  young  master,  whom  he  heartily  liked,  a  great  wrong. 
John  need  not  look  far  in  order  to  find  sophistries  that 
would  excuse  his  conduct  to  himself. 

The  business  was  none  of  his.  He  was*not  certain  but 
the  letter  was  the  same,  after  all.  So  the  man  did  his 
part  just  as  Edith  had  prescribed  it  for  him.  It  was  very 
little,  certainly.  He  inquired  for  Miss  Holland,  and  gave 
the  letter  into  her  hands. 

But  all  the  way  home,  it  was  singular  how  he  dreaded 
meeting  his  young  master.  "  You  saw  Miss  Holland, 
and  gave  her  the  letter,  as  I  told  you?"  asked  Duke, 
coming  out  to  the  stable,  where  John  was  grooming  the 
horses. 

.  "I  saw  her,  and  gave  her  the  letter,  sir,"  answered 
the  man  ;  but  he  kept  on  working  diligently  at  the  horse, 
and  did  not  look  up,  and  meet  his  master's  gaze. 

An  hour  afterward,  Edith  came  downstairs,  with  pre- 
cisely the  same  question  which  her  brother  had  done ; 
and  John  replied  in  precisely  the  same  words  as  before, 
only  he  looked  the  young  lady  straight  in  the  face. 


298  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

JESSAMINE -HOLLAND  went  up  to  her  room,  carrying  the 
letter  which  John  had  brought,  in  a  strange  flutter  of  ex- 
citement. She  did  not  even  look  at  the  address ;  but  if 
anybody  had  caught  sight  of  the  girl's  face  he  would 
have  seen  it  tremulous  and  flushed  with  some  strong  feeling. 

For  Jessamine  Holland  had  a  conviction  that  the  letter 
she  carried  held  her  fate,  that  morning. 

She  closed  her  chamber-door,  and  locked  it, —  a  thing 
which  she  had  never  done  .since  she  had  entered  the 
household.  Then  she  sat  down  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands  a  moment,  her  heart  throbbed  so  violently. 
It  was  some  minutes  before  that  steadied  itself  enough  for 
her  to  open  the  letter  calmly,  and  Jessamine  would  not 
do  it  any  other  way. 

There  was  a  little  shock  in  her  face,  when  her  eyes 
met  the  handwriting,  like  that  of  one  who,  in  the  midst 
of  some  strong  excitement,  receives  a  sudden  blow.  But 
she  read  on  to  the  end.  John  had  only  brought  her  a 
polite  note,  requesting  Miss  Holland's  company  in  a  drive 
that  afternoon.  Miss  Walbridge  would  call  for  her,  and 
would  not  trouble  the  young  lady  for  a  reply.  So  the 
letter  resolved  itself  into  a  mere  ceremony,  after  all.  Jes- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  299 

samine's  feelings,  wrought  up  as  they  had  been,  underwent 
a  corresponding  reaction. 

She  did  not  know  what  ailed  her ;  she  was  provoked 
with  herself,  thoroughly  blue  and  miserable.  Nothing 
would  have  relieved  her  so  much  as  a  good  cry,  but  Jes- 
samine was  not  one  of  those  women  who  are  always  melt- 
ing into  showers  on  the  slightest  occasion,  and  she  had  a 
secret  feeling  that  giving  way  to  a  fit  of  weeping  at  this 
crisis  would  leave  her  without  a  particle  of  self-respect  for 
the  remainder  of  her  days. 

The  letter  from  Edith  Walbridge  had  brought  her  a 
keen  disappointment ;  but  what  right  had  any  young 
woman  to  expect  letters  until  they  came  ?  » 

"  It  served  her  just  right ;  and  it  was  very  kind  and 
thoughtful  of  Miss  Edith  to  invite  her  out  to  drive.  Of 
course  she  would  go."  So  Jessamine  reasoned  with  her- 
self, and  managed  to  clear  up  her  mood  a  little,  and 
carry  her  usual  calm  face  down  to  Mrs.  Kent  and  the 
lessons  ;  but,  for  all  that,  the  disappointment  clung  to  her 
heart,  like  mist  and  chill,  through  the  whole  morning. 

Edith  Walbridge  went  into  her  room  also,  and  locked 
the  door,  —  an  unusual  precaution  with  that  young  lady. 
Then  she  took  up  a  letter,  which  had  been  placed  very 
carefully  beneath  a  small  marble  Hebe  on  the  table.  She 
looked  at  it  several  moments  with  her  face  growing  stern 
and  gloomy.  She  lighted  a  taper,  and  yet  she  paused  a 
moment  before  she  touched  it  to  the  thing  in  her  hand. 
Jessamine  Holland  seemed  suddenly  to  rise  before  her, 
the  bright,  sweet  face,  the  dark,  clear  eyes,  as  she  had 
looked  when  Edith  liked  her  most.  At  the  best,  how- 


300  THE  HOLLANDS. 

ever,  it  had  only  been  a  doubtful,  half  liking,  which  the 
eldest  of  the  Walbridge  daughters  felt  toward  their 
guest. 

What  if  this  Jessamine  Holland  loved  Duke?  It 
would  not  be  a  light  thing  with  her,  such  as  it  would  be 
with  most  young  girls ;  but  a  memory  and  an  anguish  — 
poets  and  authors  wrote  of  such  things  —  that  must  abide 
with  her  through  life. 

I  think  a  pang  of  pity  smote  the  girl's  heart  for  one 
moment,  as  she  held  that  little  blue,  curling  taper  in  her 
hand.  But  it  was  driven  out  swiftly,  as  the  air  drove 
the  flame  toward  her  fingers. 

"I  counted  the  cost  before  I  commenced,"  muttered 
the  girl,  "and  I  have  sworn  you  shall  not  be  my  sister, 
Jessamine  Holland."  Then  she  threw  the  letter  on  the 
hearth  and  touched  it  to  the  flame.  There  was  a  flash, 
and  the  next  moment  a  little  brown,  shrivelled  heap  on 
the  hearth.  Edith  smiled  darkly,  as  she  saw  it. 

"  There's  your  fine  love-story,  Duke  Walbridge,  which 
you  fancy  your  Dulcinea  is  drinking  in  now  !  What  a 
pity  it  must  all  be  wasted  !  " 

Then  she  sat  down  and  went  over  her  part  for  the  af- 
ternoon again,  in  order  to  have  it  all  perfect ;  and  at  last 
concluded  that  Gertrude  had  better  accompany  her  on  the 
drive.  Her  presence  would  add  a  certain  emphasis  of 
truthfulness  to  some  statements  which  Edith  had  been 
carefully  rehearsing  for  Jessamine-  Holland's  benefit. 
There  was  no  need  that  Gertrude  should  know  anything 
about  the  letter ;  and  Edith  intended  to  tell  her  story  in 
such  a  way  that  even  her  younger  sister  could  hardly  tell 


THE  HOLLANDS.  301 

how  much  was  true,  and  how  much  was  false ;  and  Ger- 
trude's part  would  be  only  a  passive  one. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  the  ladies  called  for  Jessamine, 
and  the  three  were  soon  bowling  along  the  road  in  their 
handsome  phaeton.  The  Walbridge  girls  had  never  been 
in  a  gayer  mood,  or  more  cordial  toward  herself,  than 
on  that  afternoon,  and  Jessamine's  spirits  were  naturally 
elastic,  and  the  disappointment  of  the  morning  had  grad- 
ually slipped  away.  She  had  her  full  share  in  the  ani- 
mated talk,  and  of  course  there  was  plenty  of  it,  for  the 
young  ladieiJiad  not  seen  each  other  during  the  summer. 

The  Walbridges  gaYe  Jessamine  amusing  descriptions 
of  their  season,  which  the  girl  enjoyed,  and  at  last-^-  they 
had  been  riding  for  an  hour  or  two  —  Edith  spoke,  in 
such  a  natural  way  that  even  Gertrude,  who  had  been  on 
the  look-out  for  a  long  time,  wondered  if  the  words  were 
really  preconcerted  on  her  sister's  part. 

"  There  was  nobody  but  our  own  family  in  the  com- 
pany, as  you  know,  Miss  Jessamine  ;  but  we  seemed  to 
make  a  great  impression,  of  numbers  wherever  we  stopped. 
Even  the  waiters  talked  about  that  large  party  !  It  was 
very  funny,  for  I  have  never  considered  our  family  a 
prodigious  one." 

"Miss  Wheatley  was  with  you,  I  think  you  said. 
She  made  one  more."  added  Jessamine. 

"Oh,  yes.  But  then  you  know,  Miss  Jessamine,  it 
has  been  so  long  settled^nat  she  is  one  of  the  family, 
that  I  quite  forgot  to  omit  her  in  the  enumeration." 

"One  of  the  family!  I  don't  think  I  quite  under- 
stand," replied1  Jessamine.  There  was  some  curiosity; 


302  .  THE  HOLLANDS. 

but  Edith's  sharpened  ears  detected  nothing  else  under 
the  tones. 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  must  know,  Miss  Jessamine,  af- 
ter being  with  us  all  last  winter.  There  has  been  an  en- 
gagement between  Duke  and  Margaret  Wheatley  ever 
since  they  were  children.  You  know  the  intimacy  of  the 
two  families,  and  this  has  strengthened  it.  That  my 
brother  and  Margaret  are  warmly  attached  to  each  other 
does  not  admit  of  a  doubt ;  and  yet  —  I  am  certain  I  can 
trust  you,  Miss  Jessamine,  with  a  family  secret  which 
has  given  us  of  late  a  good  deal  of  uneasiness  —  Duke 
does  not  seem  to  show  much  of  a  lover's  arcror  about  con- 
summating his  marriage.  We  fancied  that  it  would  take 
place  this  fall,  but  it  is  not  likely  to  come  off  earlier  than 
next  spring.  Duke  is,  as  you  are  aware,  Miss  Jessamine, 
the  queerest  of  mortals,  and  of  course  there  is  no  need  he 
should  be  in  a  hurry  ;  and  Margaret,  secure  in  his  attach- 
ment, is  content  enough  to  wait.  Nobody  would  expect 
Duke  Walbridge  to  do  just  like  other  people,  even  in  his 
courtship,  you  know,  Gertrude." 

"Oh,  no,  of  course  not,"  answered  the  other,  in  a 
rapid,  acquiescent  tone  ;  and  that  was  all  Gertrude's  share 
in  the  matter. 

We  have  all  of  us  heard  people  whose  limbs  have  been 
shattered  by  some  terrible  blow,  relate  how  at  the  mo- 
ment of  the  stroke  they.were  not  conscious  of  any  pain, 
only  a  sensation  of  suddennlfeibness  or  paralysis. 

Precisely  of  this  sort  was  Jessamine  Holland's  feeling. 
The  blow  was  stunning,  but  its  very  force  made  her  calm. 
Whatever  feeling  surged  beneath  her  voice,  that  was 


THE  HOLLANDS.  303 

steady  enough  as  it  answered,  "  I  never  suspected  all 
this,  Miss  Edith ;  and  yet  I  can  understand  it  now  per- 
fectly. Miss  Wheatley  must  be  most  welcome  to  your 
family." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  with  our  long  friendship.  "We  never 
joke  Duke  about  his  engagement.  He  does  not  like  it. 
That  is  another  of  his  oddities  ;  so  you  never  heard  the 
matter  talked  over." 

"•Yes."  And  there  was  no  reason  she  should  say  any- 

•/  •/ 

thing  more. 

It  was  g|»ving  dark  now,  and  the  phaeton  had  turned 
homeward  some  time  ago.  Edith  had  the  talk  largely  to 
herself,  and  her  spirits  seemed  to  rise  as  the  carriage 
swept  along  the  smooth  roads  in  the  deepening  twilight. 
Jessamine  answered  promptly  enough  whenever  it  was 
necessary  ;  but  she  sat  very  quietly  in  her  corner  of  the 
carriage,  and  Edith  had  a  feeling  through  all  that  the 
girl  had  had  some  awful  hurt. 

It  was  not  precisely  a  comfortable  feeling  to  have  such 
a  companionVby  her  side,  and  Edith  certainly  felt  a  sense 
of  relief  when  they  drove  into  the  Kent  grounds,  and  the 
quiet  figure  was  lifted  out  on  the  veranda.  But  she 
played  her  part  well,  even  to  the  final  adieux. 

The  carriage  had  barely  turned  around  before  Ger- 
trude commenced.  "  Why,  Edith  Walbridge,  I  had  no 
idea  you  were  going  to  «nake  a  story  out  of  whole  cloth 
like  that ;  neither  had  mUmma,  I  am  sure,  or  she  would 
never  have  consented  to  it." 

"What  did  you  expect  I  was  going  to  do,  then?" 
asked  Edith,  a  little  defiantly. 


304  THE  HOLLANDS. 

11  Why,  that  you  were  going  to  give  Miss  Holland  to 
understand  there  was  something  between  Duke  and  Mar- 
garet that  —  that  we  hoped  would  amount  to  an  engage- 
ment some  day." 

"Much  good  that  would  have  done  !  "  said  Edith,  con- 
temptuously. 

"  How  you  ever  got  through  with  it,  I  can't  imagine," 
added  Gertrude.  "  It  was  all  a  story  from  beginning  to 
end.  It  would  have  stuck  in  my  throat." 

To  tell  the  truth,  Gertrude  was  a  good  deal  amazed 
and  shocked.  An  absolute  lie  was  something  which 
Mrs.  Walbridge's  children  had  been  taught*to  regard  as 
really  wicked,  like  swearing  or  stealing. 

"  'Twas  not  made  out  of  whole  cloth,"  answered 
Edith.  "  Of  course  I  had  to  stretch  things  some  when  I 
got  to  talking ;  but  I  should  like  to  know  if  there  has  not 
always  been  a  strong  attachment  betwixt  Duke  and  Mar- 
garet, and  if  we  don't  all  hope  and  expect  they  will  be 
married  ? ' ' 

"  Well,  yes,  that  is  true  ;  but  the  engagement  isn't," 
added  the  younger  lady,  with  a  new  sense  of  her  sister's 
diplomatic  shrewdness,  and  beginning  to  feel  Edith  was 
not  quite  so  far  wrong  as  at  first  appeared. 

"Well,  they  ought  to  be,  if  they're  not.  I  only  in- 
tended to  anticipate  facts  a  little." 

Just  then  the  carriage  reached  home.  After  all, 
Edith  had  made  a  good  defence  of  her  conduct  —  to  her- 
self, at  least. 

The  Rents  had  gone  out  to  pass  the  evening,  and 
would  not  be  home  until  late.  Jessamine  Holland  re- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  305 

membered  that,  as  she  went  up  to  her  room,  with  a  sense 
of  relief,  through  all  the  dizziness  and  ache  which  seemed 
to  have  come  down  upon  head  and  heart. 

They  brought  the  baby  to  her  for  his  good-night  kiss, 
and  somebody,  she  could  not  tell  who,  urged  her  to  come 
down  to  tea,  and  she  answered  she  was  not  well  to-night, 
her  head  ached  ;  nobody  could  do  her  any  good  ;  if  they 
would  only  leave  her  quite  alone,  it  would  pass  off. 

She  seemed  to  be  talking  like  one  in  a  dream ;  indeed, 
the  whole  world  seemed  to  resolve  itself  now  into  some- ' 
thing  unreal  and  chaotic,  with  the  exception  of  that  pain 
at   her  heart,   which  grew  and  grew   like  a  devouring 
fire. 

And  so,  on  brain  and  heart,  the  truth  pressed  home,  as 
though  it  must  kill  her,  that  she  loved  Duke  Walbridge, 
and  that  he  was  lost  to  her  —  lost  to  her  this  side  the 
grave  !  Oh,  how  cool  and  pleasant  its  silence  and  dark- 
ness yawned  open  to  her  then  !  She  did  not  wring  her 
hands  and  cry ;  she  sat  still  and  looked  her  fate  in  the 
face  —  sat  just  as  still  as  she  used  to  sit  in  the  corner, 
when  she  was  a  little  child,  and  there  was  no  supper  to 
eat,  and  she  was  very  hungry;  but  if  she  cried,  her 
mother  would  hear  her,  and  then  a  hysteric  spasm,  or  a 
fainting  fit,  would  be  likely  to  follow,  and  either  of  these 
the  poor  child  dreaded  more  than  the  hunger.  And  now 
the  pale,  set,  wistful  face  had  just  the  look  of  that  little, 
hungry,  still  child's  sitting  long  ago  in  the  corner. 

The  moon  came  out,  a  large,  reddish,  solitary  moon, 
and  looked  at  her.  It  used  to  do  that  sometimes  in  the 
old  home,  she  remembered,  and  she  used  to  wonder,  too, 

26 


306  THE  HOLLANDS. 

if  it  knew  and  felt  sorry  for  her.  She  almost  wondered 
that  now.  There  was  nobody  in  the  whole  world  who 
pitied  her.  Did  God,  even,  sitting  away  up  in  his 
heaven,  —  his  heaven  so  happy  and  so  far  off?  And 
through  all  the  pain  grew  and  grew  like  a  devouring 
fire. 

It  was  an  awful  night  to  the  girl  —  so  awful  that  it 
seems  almost  sacrilege  for  me  to  move  aside  the  veil  so 
that  you  shall  look  in  and  see,  —  a  night  which  she  would 
•never  forget,  even  when  she  should  be  a  gray,  wrinkled 
old  woman, —  a  night  whose  memory  would  make  her  ten- 
derer and  softer  to  all  loss  that  come  to  young  men  and 
maidens ;  that  would  make  her  speak  of  their  sorrows 
gravely,  never  joining  in  common  laughter  or  jest  over 
them,  with  a  feeling  that  earth  held  no  sorrow,  in  its 
freshness,  so  keen  and  bitter  as  that  of  disappointed 
love. 

She  learned  then,  as  she  never  could  have  learned  in 
any  prosperous  courtship,  how  she  loved  Duke  Walbridge, 
— what  he  might  be  to  her  through  all  that  future,  whose 
broad  horizons  reached  away  and  away,  as  the  horizons 
of  life  do  reach  in  our  youth,  —  and  she  must  give  him 
up !  For  the  eyes  shining  out  of  that  white  face  looked 
straight  at  that  fact,  took  in  its  whole  meaning. 

Every  word  which  Edith's  light,  rapid  voice  had  spo- 
ken had  burned  itself  into  her  soul ;  and  there  were 
groups  of  circumstances  to  rise  up  and  confirm  Miss  Wai- 
bridge's  story.  Not  that  it  ever  entered  into  Jessa- 
mine's thoughts  to  doubt  it.  How  could  it?  But  the 
home  intimacy  of  the  two,  which  she  never  doubted,  sav- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  307 

ing  for  one  brief  interval,  had  its  roots  in  anything  deeper 
than  their  boy  and  girl  friendship,  now  took  a  new  sig- 
nificance in  her  eyes.  In  a  moment,  too,  all  Duke's  con- 
duct toward  herself  stood  out  clear  in  the  new  light 
which  Edith's  words  had  poured  on  it.  Into  the  white 
face  there  came  a  sudden  flush,  and  for  just  a  moment 
the  heart  of  Jessamine  Holland  throbbed  in  exultation. 
She,  of  all  the  world  alone,  knew  why  Duke  was  in  no 
hurry  to  consummate  his  marriage  with  the  banker's 
daughter.  His  manner  in  the  library  long  ago,  and  es- 
pecially all  that  happened  in  his  last  visit,  told  its  own 
story  to  her  heart.  If  she  had  not  wholly  won  the  love 
of  Duke  Walbridge  from  his  betrothed,  Jessamine  Hol- 
land knew  that  it  was  in  her  power  to  do  it. 

But  with  a  swift  gesture  of  horror,  she  put  away  this 
temptation  from  her,  believing  it  was  of  the  devil.  She 
could  see  now  why  Duke  had  not  spoken,  and  how  hon- 
or had  struggled  with  some  other  feeling  in  their  last  in- 
terview. She  shuddered,  seeing  the  brink  of  that  preci- 
pice to  which  it  seemed  her  unconscious  hand  had  led 
her  friend. 

The  future  of  Margaret  Wheatley  was  safe  in  her 
hands  as  Olivia's  was  in  Viola's.  Before  she  would  have 
betrayed  it,  this  little  Jessamine  Holland  would  have 
gone  and  laid  down  her  head  with  a  smile,  on  the  scaf- 
fold. He  was  not  hers ;  he  belonged  to  another.  And 
though  it  was  more  than  the  sweetness  of  life  she  put 
away,  and  more  than  the  bitterness  of  death  she  took  to 
her  heart  at  that  moment,  sitting  under  the  large,  red, 
solitary  moon,  God  be  witness  for  this  girl  that  she  did 


308  THE  HOLLANDS. 

not  hesitate.  She  would  help  Duke  Walbridge  be  true 
to  himself.  She  loved  him  too  well  not  to  love  his 
honor  more  than  her  own  happiness. 

Whatever  there  might  be  in  some  cases,  there  was  no 
reason  here  to  justify  the  breaking  of  Duke's  engage- 
ment. Jessamine  reasoned  calmly  now,  as  though  she 
had  nothing  at  stake ;  perhaps  a  little  more  sternly.  She 
remembered  all  that  Edith  had  said  about  the  hopes  of 
both  families  being  involved  in  the  engagement,  — that 
young  woman  had  known  just  the  facts  most  likely  to  ap- 
peal to  a  generous  and  sensitive  nature,  —  she  remembered 
her  kindly  welcome  in  the  household  —  she  remembered 
all  Margaret  Wheatley's  pleasant  ways  toward  herself. 
Should  they  find  at  last  that  the  stranger  they  had  re- 
ceived in  their  midst  had  wrought  mischief  and  misery  for 
them  all ! 

She  could  die,  if  it  must  be,  Jessamine  thought ;  but 
she  could  not  do  that  other  thing. 

Yet  what  a  dreadful,  bare,  empty  world  it  looked  to 
her,  —  all  its  lights  and  hopes  blown  out  with  those  few 
careless  words.  One  day,  and  then  another,  with  noth- 
ing worth  living  for,  and  that  fiery  pain  eating  at  her 
heart,  while  she  must  move  among  people,  and  talk  with 
them,  as  though  nothing  had  happened,  and  to-morrow 
things  would  go  on  just  the  same  as  ever,  even  to  Mrs. 
Kent's  lessons. 

How  long  would  all  this  last  ?  she  wondered.  Until 
she  grew  to  be  an  old  woman,  —  an  old  woman  with  such 
a  heavy  weight  of  days  and  •  nights  ?  Then  could  she 
ever  learn  to  meet  Duke  Walbridge  calmly,  —  ever  smile 


THE  HOLLANDS.  309 

on  him  with  just  the  old  friendliness,  —  him,  the  husband 
of  Margaret  Wheatley. 

What  a  live  stab  came  with  that  thought !  She  put  it 
away  quickly.  Then  Ross  came  up  to  her.  She  had 
him  still  to  live  for ;  but  even  for  him  her  heart  hardly 
stirred  now  with  a  live  nerve  of  feeling.  She  did  not 
know  that  the  young  life  would  come  back  after  a  while, 
—  the  blow  had  only  paralyzed  it  now.  Then  she 
thought  of  God,  —  the  Father  in  heaven,  whose  heart  of 
love  she  had  trusted  through  all  the  pain  and  penury  of 
her  childhood,  whose  tender  care  she  had  believed  would 
never  desert  her  in  any  dire  extremity  of  life ;  not  even 
when  life  failed  her,  and  her  eyes  grew  dim,  and  her  last 
pulses  grew  low. 

Did  he  know,  of  this  great  trouble  that  had  come  upon 
her  ?  Did  he  know,  and  was  he  sorry  for  her  ?  as  she 
had  never  doubted  his  sorrow  in  the  old  times  of  her 
trouble. 

If  through  this  great  darkness  she  could  only  find  his 
hand,  and  cling  to  it,  she  might  stay  herself  even  now 


even  now 


Something  softened  in  the  white  set  face,  and  the  great, 
reddish,  solitary  moon  saw  the  tears  quivering  at  last  in 
the  bright,  dry  eyes. 

"Miss  Jessamine,"  said  Mrs.  Kent,  bustling  into  the 
room  just  at  twilight,  "Mr.  Walbridge  is  downstairs. 
I  saw  him  a  moment.  Of  course,  he  has  asked  for  you." 

Jessamine  gave  a  little  start.  Mrs.  Kent  had  sur- 
prised her  friend  on  the  lounge. 


310  THE  HOLLANDS. 

The  girl  had  gone  through  with  her  lessons  that  morn- 
ing as  usual,  and  had  a  frolic. with  the  baby.  Yet  even 
he  felt,  as  well  as  his  mother,  that  something  was  the 
matter  with  "Aunt  Dess." 

She  said  she  was  not  quite  well.  And  Mrs.  Kent, 
looking  in  her  face,  urged  her  to  take  a  holiday;  but  Jes- 
samine would  not  hear  of  it.  Indeed,  the  girl  seemed  pos- 
sessed of  a  strange,  restless,  nervous  energy,  and  was 
inclined  to  lengthen  all  the  lessons,  until  Mrs.  Kent  had 
to  protest. 

"I  can't  see  him  to-night,"  answered  Jessamine,  with  a 
swift,  smothered  pain  in  her  voice  ;  "  I  am  not  feeling  well." 

It  was  too  soon  to  meet  him  calmly,  after  that  awful 
struggle  of  the  night  before.  Looking  in  his  face,  hear- 
ing his  voice,  the  truth  would  slip  into  hers,  and  then  he 
might  say  —  what  would  undo  them  both  —  what  he  had 
come  so  very  near  saying  only  two  days  before. 

Once  certain  that  she  loved  him,  Duke  Walbridge 
might  mak^  himself  believe  that  Margaret  Wheatley's 
claim  was  not  absolute  —  might  make  even  Jessamine 
Holland  believe  it.  She  did  not  dare  to  trust  herself. 

"  But,  Miss  Jessamine,  it  may  do  you  good  to  see  Mr. 
Walbridge.  You  look  as  though  you  needed  something 
to  animate  you.  Can't  you  make  an  effort  to  come 
down?"  asked  Mrs.  Kent,  a- little  doubtfully. 

"No,  thank  you.  You  are  very  good,  dear  Mrs. 
Kent,  to  come  up  here  with  the  message.  Be,  for  once 
a  little  more  so,  and  carry  mine  to  Mr.  Walbridge.  I 
am  utterly  tired  to-night.  That  is  all.  I  shall  be  well 
to-morrow." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  311 

So  Mrs.  Kent  Avent  down,  still  a  little  in  doubt,  and 
delivered  Jessamine's  message,  which  she  tried  to  soften 
all  she  could,  it  seeming  hardly  kind. 

"  Not  well !  I  did  not  understand  your  friend  was 
indisposed.  Mrs.  Kent?  " 

' '  She  would  not  own  it  this  morning,  Mr.  Walbridge ; 
but  I  have  seen  she  was  not  just  herself  all  day." 

"And  —  and  this  was  all  Miss  Holland's  message?  " 

'•  This  was  all.  She  is  very  tired ;  but  I  think,  if  you 
call  to-morrow,  she  will  be  able  to  see  you,"  answered 
the  hostess,  not  feeling  quite  comfortably. 

Something  came  into  the  young  man's  face  —  some- 
thing full  of  pain  and  bitterness  —  which  Mrs.  Kent 
never  forgot.  Then  he  rose  up,  and  was  going  away, 
much  like  a  blind  man,  who  is  going  toward  light  or  air, 
and  he  seemed  quite  unconscious  of  the  lady's  presence  ; 
but  just  as  he  reached  the  door,  he  turned,  and  said,  in  a 
hard,  dry  tone,  ' '  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Kent.  You 
are  very  kind.  I  hope  your  friend  will  be  quite  well  to- 
morrow. Good-night."  And  he  went  out. 

Edith  Walbridge's  plot  had  worked  well. 

This  was  Jessamine  Holland's  answer !  Duke  "Wai- 
bridge  had  ridden  over  to  the  Kents  that  night,  and  his 
heart  was  a  young  man's,  strong  in  its  first  hope  and 
dream  of  love.  Jessamine  had  read  his  letter,  he  tkought, 
the  man  blushing  all  alone,  in  the  twilight,  like  a  girl. 

And  this  was  her  answer  ! 

His  horse  led  him  out  of  the  grounds,  and  took  the  road 
home.  He  might  have  gone  there,  or  anywhere  else,  for 
all  his  young  master  knew  or  cared. 


THE  HOLLANDS. 


And  this  was  Jessamine's  answer  ! 

It  might  have  seemed  chill  or  heartless  to  some  men  ; 
but  even  in  that  moment,  Duke  Walbridge  would  not 
accuse  her  in  his  inmost  thoughts.  She  had  chosen  that 
method  of  answering  him,  because  it  seemed  the  swiftest 
and  easiest,  if  the  deadliest.  She  would  not  see  him  to 
give  him  pain  ;  would  not  write  him,  because  no  soft,  com- 
monplace words,  such  as  women  oftenest  use,  could  soothe 
the  bitterness  of  her  No. 

It  was  like  her  to  answer  him  with  silence,  and  it  was 
best  so  !  Yet  something  in  her  voice,  in  the  very  droop 
of  her  head  yesterday,  had  given  him  courage  to  write 
that  letter. 

He  groaned  out  sharply,  as  the  whole  scene  came  up 
before  him,  and  then  he  rode  on  through  the  darkening 
night,  not  knowing  nor  caring  whither,  until  at  last  he 
found  himself  at  the  gate  of  his  own  home. 

After  dismounting,  Duke  Walbridge  went  to  a  dark 
thicket  in  one  corner  of  the  grounds,  and  threw  himself 
down  among  the  evergreens.  The  moon,  a  little  larger 
and  redder  than  last  night,  and  as  solitary,  stood  over  him, 
and  she  saw  the  awful  anguish  of  his  face  ;  saw  him  throw 
himself  down  on  the  damp  ground. 

Jessamine  Holland  was  a  tender  maiden,  yet  she  had 
taken  h^r  blow  more  calmly  than  the  man  did  his. 

He  thought  how  he  had  loved  her,  and  how  she  was 
lost  to  him,  and  he  felt  that  his  youth  was  wrecked  and 
his  life  a  failure,  which  was  natural  enough  if  it  were 
not  true.  She  was  the  woman  whom  he  could  love  ;  he 
should  never  find  another  like  her,  —  there  could  be  no 


THE  HOLLANDS.  313 

hope  for  him;  there  was  but  one  interpretation  of  her 
answer. 

He  wished  he  was  dead, —  wished  that  night  Ross  had 
not  plunged  after,  him,  but  that  he  had  gone  down, 
down  in  the  storm  and  darkness,  to  sleep  there  in  cool, 
wide  reaches  of  salt  waves,  where  his  grief  could  never 
have  found  him.  And  there  in  the  wet,  chill,  black  mass 
of  evergreens  Duke  Walbridge  struggled  with  his  fate. 
Perhaps  he  thought  of  God  —  I  cannot  tell ;  but  if  he 
did,  it  was  not  as  Jessamine  had  done,  for  a  hard,  tumult- 
uous, desperate  mood  possessed  him,  a  mood  which  only 
asked,  "  Why  hast  thou  denied  me  the  prayer  of  my  heart?  " 

Let  us  leave  him,  as  we  left  Jessamine,  alone  with  the 
awful  grief  into  which  it  is  sacrilege  to  enter. 

It  was  almost  midnight  when  Duke  Walbridge  entered 
his  hoine.  Company  had  kept  the  family  up  late,  and 
Mrs.  Walbridge  and  Edith  had  been  anxiously  awaiting 
Duke's  appearance.  They  knew  he  had  ridden  out  that 
evening,  and  there  was  little  doubt  about  his  destination, 
and  neither  of  the  ladies  could  await  his  return  without 
trepidation. 

A  private  interview  betwixt  Duke  and  Jessamine  Hol- 
land might  disclose  some  very  ugly  facts.  Edith  had 
been  on  the  watch  to  forestall  that.  She  had  counted  on 
Duke's  awaiting  a  reply  to  his  letter,  and  on  his  accepting 
the  silence  as  a  denial  of  his  suit.  But  if  Duke  saw  the 
young  lady,  the  fact  of  his  having  written  her  a  letter, 
which  she  had  never  received,  could  hardly  fail  to  trans- 
pire. Duke  was  not  suspicious  ;  but  once  hold  of  the 
thread,  he  would  not  fail  to  unwind  the  whole  tissue  of 

27 


314  THE  HOLLANDS. 

falsehoods ;  and  Edith,  with  all  her  audacity,  could  not 
contemplate  the  possibility  of  Duke's  discovering  her  plot 
without  trembling. 

Both  of  the  ladies  had  passed  a  sufficiently  miserable 
evening.  Both  saw  at  the  first  glance  that  Duke  had 
learned  nothing.  But  his  face  had  a  worn,  tired,  old 
look,  which  went  to  the  heart  of  his  mother. 

Mr.  Walbridge  was  nodding  in  his  chair.  His  son's 
entrance  started  him  wide  awake. 

"  Father,"  said  Duke,  in  a  dry,  mechanical  tone,  as 
though  he  took  no  interest  in  the  matter,  "I've  altered 
my  mind  about  going  out  West  to  see  that  land.  I'm  ready 
to  start  to-morrow."  He  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

At  dinner-time  he  had  strongly  opposed  the  whole 
scheme,  —  insisted  he  was  not  qualified  to  undertake  the 
business.  Then  his  mother  and  sister  both  knew  what 
had  wrought  this  sudden  change  in  Duke's  plans. 

His  father  brightened  up  at  the  announcement,  and 
commenced  a  brisk  talk ;  but  it  was  doubtful  whether 
Duke,  sitting  in  the  chair,  with  his  tired  face,  took  in  one 
word. 

"0  my  boy!"  said  his  mother,  leaning  over  and 
laying  her  hand  on  his  knee,  "  it  will  be  very  hard  to 
part  with  you.  I  shall  miss  you  every  hour." 

Her  son  looked  at  the  lady,  with  some  secret  pain  in 
his  eyes,  and  a  glimmer  of  a  smile  on  his  lip,  that  it  hurt 
her  to  see. 

"Shall  you?"  he  said.  "  I  suppose  you  do  care  a 
little  something  for  me,  mother." 

"  0  my  boy,  I  would  die  for  you  !  "     And  the  mother 


THE  HOLLANDS.  315 

in  Mrs.  Walbridge  felt  all  she  said.  And  if  she  could 
have  gazed,  for  one  moment,  into  the  cruel  anguish  she 
had  wrought  for  those  two  young  souls,  not  all  the  wealth 
of  Margaret  Wheatley's  father  could  have  brought  Mrs. 
Walbridge  to  carry  out  the  deed  at  which  she  had  at  least 
connived. 

That  night  Edith  and  her  mother  sat  up  and  talked 
together,  until  almost  morning. 

After  Duke's  departure,  Mrs.  Kent  went  upstairs  to 
Jessamine  with  a  perplexed  face.  Something,  plain- 
ly, had  gone  wrong  betwixt  the  two.  Remembering  the 
young  man's  look,  the  lady  was  half  inclined  to  be 
provoked  with  her  friend. 

"I  delivered  your  message,  Miss  Jessamine,  but  I 
thought  Mr.  Walbridge  was  surprised,  and  a  little  hurt." 

Jessamine  moved  restlessly.  "I  am  sorry  to  give  him 
any  pain,  but  I  could  not  go  down  to-night." 

All  the  bright  elasticity  had  gone  out  of  her  voice  — 
out  of  her  face  too.  She  spoke  and  looked  like  one  who 
is  worn  out  with  some  awful  struggle.  Mrs.  Kent  was 
dreadfully  puzzled.  The  whole  thing  was  more  serious 
than  she  had  imagined. 

With  an  instinct  of  helpfulness,  she  resolved  to  plunge 
right  into  the  difficulty.  "If  I  did  not  think  you  both 
above  such  things,  I  should  fancy  this  a  lover's  quarrel, 
Miss  Jessamine." 

The  girl  did  not  so  much  as  blush  or  smile.  She  only 
said,  in  that  dead-live  tone  of  hers,  "  Duke  Walbridge 
and  I  will  never  be  anything  of  that  sort  to  each  other." 

"  I'm  not  so  certain  of  it,"  continued  the  lady,  determined 


316  THE  HOLLANDS. 

to  press  matters  home  now.  "  The  gentleman's  look  and 
manner,  when  he  left,  were  very  much  like  what  I  fancy 
a  rejected  lover's  must  be." 

Jessamine's  face  winced  with  a  quick  pain.  She  closed 
her  eyes  a  moment.  The  words  she  must  speak  now 
would  cost  her  a  great  pang,  but  it  would  be  something  to 
have  them  over,  and  the  sooner  Mrs.  Kent  knew,  the 
better. 

"  Duke  Walbridge  is  engaged  to  Margaret  Wheatley. 
I  should  have  told  you  before,  but  I  did  not  know  it 
myself." 

"  Engaged  to  Margaret  Wheatley  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Kent,  in  a  tone  of  breathless  amazement.  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve one  word  of  it." 

"  But  it  is  true,"  answered  Jessamine,  very  decidedly. 
"His  sister  told  me  so.  They  have  known  each  other 
ever  since  they  were  children,  and  the  engagement  has 
been  a  very  long  one." 

"His  sister  told  you  so !  "  repeated  Mrs.  Kent,  still 
incredulous.  "  Why  did  he  never  acknowledge  it 
then  ?  And  why  has  the  family  kept  it  secret  all  this 
time?" 

"  Duke  never  liked  to  be  joked  about  it,  and  I  suppose 
he  thought  it  enough  that  his  family  and  hers  understood 
the  relation.  I  ought  to  have  suspected  it  myself  from 
the  intimacy  of  the  two ;  but  I  attributed  it  to  their  old 
friendship." 

"  It  is  a  very  curious  affair,"  said  Mrs.  Kent,  musing- 
ly. "I  never  dreamed  of  his  being  Miss  Wheatley's 
lover  in  the  few  times  I  have  seen  them  together.  Why 


THE  HOLLANDS.  317 

did  his  sister  feel  called  upon  to  inform  you  of  the  fact 
at  last?  " 

"  It  all  came  out  yesterday  during  our  drive.  She 
took  it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  I  understood  lon^ 

O 

before." 

"It  was  Miss  Edith  told  you?"  still  questioned  the 
lady. 

"  Yes,  and  Gertrude;  at  least  she  assented  to  all  her 
sister  said  ;"  forgetting,  for  the  moment,  how  the  latter 
had  simply  listened  to  the  other's  statement,  although 
long  afterward  Jessamine  remembered  this. 

"  If  Duke  Walbridge  loved  Miss  Wheatley,  it  was  his 
duty  to  let  you  know  it.  A  man  with  a  far  less  nice  sense 
of  honor  than  he  would  feel  that.  If  it  is  an  old  engage- 
ment, as  his  sister  calls  it,  something  is  wrong  there  now, 
Miss  Jessamine.  A  man  who  loves  a  woman  as  he 
should,  before  he  marries  her,  is  never  afraid  or  ashamed 
to  confess  it." 

•  There  were  some  scorn  and  some  anger  in  the  lady's 
voice.  Her  feeling  for  her  friend  was  strong,  and  she 
would  have  said  more  than  that,  had  she  not  glanced  at 
Jessamine's  face.  The  words  that  blamed  Duke  Wai- 
bridge  stabbed  Jessamine,  though  they  were  spoken  for 
her  sake. 

"Mrs.  Kent,"  she  said,  solemnly,  with  a  feeling  that 
she  could  not  wisely  withhold  the  truth  now,  ' '  if,  as  his 
sister  said,  Duke  Walbridge  has  shown,  of  late,  no  eager- 
ness for  his  marriage,  and  if  his  engagement  was  entered 
into  long  ago,  still  the  heart  of  one  woman  and  the  hap- 
piness of  two  families  are  involved  in  it.  Margaret  and 


318  THE    HOLLANDS. 

he  belong  to  each  other.  No  one  has  any  right  to  come 
between  them." 

Mrs.  Kent  knew  then  what  Jessamine  meant,  and  why 
she  had  refused  to  see  Duke  Walbridge.  She  knew,  too, 
what  stuff  Jessamine  Holland  was  made  of,  and  that  what- 
ever power  was  in  the  girl's  hands,  and  whatever  it  might 
cost  her,  she  would  help  Duke  Walbridge  to  be  true  to  him- 
self and  to  Margaret  Wheatley  ! 

Mrs.  Kent  looked  at  the  face  lying  among  the  crimson 
cushions  of  the  lounge,  like  a  child's  face,  worn  and  old 
with  sorrow.  The  sight  made  her  heart  ache.  Yet  she 
showed  her  native  delicacy  by  not  speaking  one  word. 
She  went  over  and  took  the  tired  face  in  her  lap,  and  kissed 
it. 

It  was  a  little  act ;  but  you  know  sometimes  what  lit- 
tle acts  are  worth.  In  all  her  life  to  come.  Jessamine 
would  never  forget  that  one. 

The  two  women  understood  each  other. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  319 


CHAPTER  XXL 

DUKE  WALBRIDGE,  on  his  way  to  the  West,  stopped  in 
New  York.  He  intended  to  remain  only  a  single  day  and 
night.  A  strange,  morbid  restlessness  possessed  him. 
The  wider  the  distance  betwixt  him  and  that  which  had 
made  alike  "the  keenest  joy  and  the  bitterest  agony  of 
his  life,"  the  better  it  seemed  for  him. 

There  was  nothing  in  New  York  to  interest  him  in  his 
present  mood.  The  streets,  the  hurrying  crowds,  the  glare 
of  light,  all  that  passed  before  him  seemed  like  one  vast, 
miserable  farce. 

What  a  wretched  Vanity  Fair  this  world  was,  and 
what  fools  made  up  the  show !  "  Was  it  worth  the 
gunpowder,  the  plumes,  the  shouting,  and  the  lights? 
Well,  it  would  be  over  soon,  that  was  one  comfort ;  and 
then  poor  Antonio's  words  drifted  across  his  sullen 
thoughts,  and  hardly  helped  to  make  them  better  :  — 

"A  stage  where  every  man  must  play  his  part, 
And  mine  a  sad  one." 

It  was  a  dark  hour  with  Duke  Walbridge.  All  his  old 
faith,  all  his  high  resolves,  went  down  into  a  grave  darker 
and  deeper  than  the  grave  where  his  heart  had  gone. 


320  THE  HOLLANDS. 

I  suppose  no  man  could  be  refused  by  the  woman  whom 
he  had  loved  generously  and  absolutely,  and  not  go  through 
much  what  this  one  did.  I  suppose,  too,  that  any  man 
who  had  not  something  weak  and  flaccid  at  bottom  would 
rally  sooner  or  later,  not  letting  a  woman's  "  No  "  blight 
his  life.  Still,  the  times  when  some  dreadful  blow  seems 
to  have  swept  off  our  faith  and  hope  are  dangerous  for  all 
of  us.  More  so,  probably,  for  men  than  women. 

A  great  temptation  was  corning,'  silent  and  swift, 
toward  Duke  Walbridge.  In  the  evening  he  called  to 
see  Margaret  Wheatley.  He  had  promised. his  family  to 
do  this,  and  brought  various  messages  from  home.  Then 
the  sight  of  a  friendly  face,  particularly  so  fair  a  face  as 
that  of  Margaret  Wheatley 's,  could  not  be  unpleasant  to 
him. 

The  banker's  daughter  welcomed  him  in  her  Sweetest 
way.  He  took  her  quite  by  surprise  ;  and  it  was  natural 
enough  she  should  suspect  that  her  charms  had  been  the 
lodestone  which  had  drawn  him  to  the  city. 

Indeed,  Margaret  Wheatley  sometimes  wondered  with- 
in herself  whether  that  odd,  fascinating  Duke  Walbridge 
had  not  been,  like  the  knight  in  the  old  story,  — 

"  Signed  with  a"  spell," 

which  made  him  proof  to  the  charms  of  all  women.  A 
tithe  of  the  attention  which  she  had  lavished  on  that 
young  man  would  have  vanquished  any  other,  Margaret 
solemnly  believed  ;  and  this*  girl  had  been  used  to  having 
whatever  she  wanted.  Her  pride  was  a  little  piqued,  and 
the  prize  was  doubly  enhanced  in  value ;  because  Marga- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  821 

ret  Wheatley,  with  all  her  charms,  was  in  her  secret  soul 
a  little  uncertain  whether  she  could  secure  it. 

She  was  in  her  most  fascinating  mood  to-night,  bright 
and  soft,  and  her  talk  took  away  something  from  her 
companion's  darkness  and  pain.  She  always  amused 
him,  and  the  two  always  found  plenty  to  say  to  each 
other. 

Duke  had  never  liked  Margaret  quite  so  well  as  he  did 
to-night,  and  he  gave  himself  up  to  whatever  power  she 
possessed  over  him.  In  all  their  friendship,  unrestrained 
as  it  had  been,  Duke  Walbridge  had  always  borne  him- 
self toward  Margaret  Wheatley  for  simply  what  he  was, 
her  intimate  friend  from  boyhood.  No  subtle  tenderness 
of  tone  or  look  had  ever  given  her  cause  to  suspect  that  a 
lover's  partiality  lay  beneath  them. 

Duke  Walbridge  had  so  much  grace  in  him  that  he 
would  never  descend  to  a  flirtation  with  any  woman.  I 
use  the  word  in  its  essential  meaning,  and  not  in  that 
light,  conventional  one  which  expresses  merely  the  social 
relations,  the  brightness,  the  frolic  and  mirth  which  are 
a  part  of  the  life  of  young  men  and  women  —  natural  and 
harmless.  Duke  Walbridge  meant  something  different 
from  that,  and  knew  what  he  meant. 

"  That  flirting  in  a  woman  was  bad  enough,"  he  always 
insisted  to  his  sisters ;  "  but  it  w/is  worse  in  a  man,  because 
his  position  made  him  in  some  sense  'master  of  the 
situation.'  ' 

He  knew,  too,  all  the  fascination  there  was  in  that  kind 
of  game.  But  long  before  he  had  ever  met  Jessamine 
Holland,  Duke  Walbridge  had  settled  with  himself  that 


THE  HOLLANDS. 

his  record  should  be  as  pure  as  he  should  wish  that  of  the 
woman's  whom  he  would  ask  to  be  his  wife. 

He  had  kept  faith  with  himself  through  the  strong 
temptations  which,  in  his  family  atmosphere,  must  be  cer- 
tain to  fall  in  his  way. 

He  held  there  was  hardly  anything  more  cruel  and  base 
than  to  imply,  by  all  the  nameless  language  of  look  and 
speech,  that  a  man  felt  a  tender  regard  for  a  woman  whom 
he  had  no  thought  of  asking  to  be  his  wife,  knowing  all 
the  time  that  he  was  awaking  some  interest  and  hope  to 
which  he  could  never  respond. 

"  It  was  almost  the  meanest  and  cruelest  wrong  a  fellow 
could  do,"  he  used  to  say,  when  some  circumstance  brought 
up  the  matter  at  home ;  ' '  because  he  knew  there  was  no 
redress ;  knew  that  he  was  perfectly  safe,  for  no  woman 
had  any  real  claim  on  a  man  before  he  had  fairly  proposed 
to  her.  • 

"  Of  course,  any  woman  was  fortunate  to  be  deserted 
by  such  a  coward  and  a  sneak ;  but  that  fact  did  not  save 
him  from  falling  as  much  below  the  level  of  pickpockets, 
as  a  woman's  heart  was  of  more  value  than  her  purse." 
That  was  the  way  Duke  Walbridge  talked ;  and  all  tbis 
with  a  great  deal  else,  plentifully  seasoned  with  praise, 
and  laughter  at  his  odd  notions,  had  been  duly  reported  to 
Margaret  Wheatley  by  Duke's  sisters. 

She  did  not  like  him"  the  less.  Do  you  think  any 
woman  would  ? 

So  that  night  the  young  man  sat  in  the  banker's  splendid 
parlors,  and  the  daughter  sat  at  his  side,  —  sat  there  with 
her  bright,  delicate,  high-bred  face,  with  all  her  native 


THE  HOLLANDS.  823 

charm  of  manaer,  set  off  by  those  fine  touches  of  social  art, 
which  add  a  crowning  grace  to  the  most  attractive  woman. 

Duke  could  not  help  looking  at  her,  admiring  her ;  and 
as  she  smiled  and  talked,  other  thoughts  came  to  him. 

He  had  staked  all,  and  lost,  —  God  only  knew  what  the 
loss  had  been ;  but  was  not  here  at  his  side  the  woman 
whom,  next  to  Jessamine  Holland,  he  liked  best  in  the 
world  ? 

He  thought  of  his  family,  and  how  great  a  delight  it 
would  be  to  them  to  learn  at  last  that  their  long  hopes 
about  him  and  Margaret  were  consummated. 

Was  there  anything  better  than  this  in  life  for  him  ? 
Jessamine  Holland  had  failed  him.  The  fine  sympathy, 
the  high  ideals,  had  gone  with  her.  Perhaps  he  had  been 
a  romantic  fool  to  expect  them  in  any  woman ;  it  seemed, 
that  when  he  called,  there  had  been  no  echoing  response 
in  her  soul,  only  silence. 

Was  not  Edith  partly  right  after  all,  and  his  mother 
too  ?  ,  He  had  sought  what  he  believed  the  highest  good, 
and  now,  at  least,  if  the  lower  fell  to  his  share,  had  he  not 
a  right  to  take  it  ? 

Tortures  might  not  have  wrung  a  confession  from  Duke 
Walbridge,  but  in  his  soul  he  had  no  very  serious  doubt 
as  to  how  his  suit  with  Margaret  Wheatley  would  prosper. 
All  this  in  his  thoughts,  his  manner  slightly  changed  to  ward 
her.  There  was  something  in  it  wnich  she  had  never  felt 
before.  In  a  little  while,  the  young  man  came  to  ques- 
tioning with  himself  whether  he  should  be  doing  any  harm 
to  ask  Margaret  Wheatley  if  she  would  be  his  wife  ?  It 
was  true  he  preferred  another  woman  before  her,  but  that 


324  THE  HOLLANDS. 

woman  could  never  be  anything  but  a  bitter  memory  to 
him.  He  liked  his  old  playfellow.  As  for  loving  this 
one,  —  well,  he  could  do  that  enough  to  make  her  satisfied 
and  happy.  What  more  was  needed  ? 

Duke  Walbridge  was  just  in  the  mood  to  make  a  des- 
perate plunge  into  something  new ;  the  hard,  material  side 
of  things  had  the  advantage  just  then. 

And  Margaret  smiled  and  sparkled  by  his  side. 

"It  is  wholly  absurd,  Duke,  your  starting  off  West  to- 
morrow; "  for  she  had  at  last  found  what  had  brought 
him  to  the  city.  "Don't  be  quite  so  parsimonious  of 
yourself.  Give  us  at  least  one  day  in  town." 

"Thank  you,  Margaret,  I'm  not  in  a  bright  mood. 
You  would  only  be  dreadfully  moped  before  the  day  was 
out,  were  I  to  be  cruel  enough  to  take  you  at  your  word, 
and  remain." 

' '  Not  in  a  bright  mood  ?  I  always  liked  you  best  in 
your  glum  ones,  when  you  were  a  boy,  for  you  were  cer- 
tain to  say  so  many  witty,  bright  things,  which  kept  me 
laughing  and  wondering  at  you.  Ah !  Duke,  what  an 
odd  little  fellow  you  were !  " 

"  Was  I?  They  say  at  home,  I  am  an  odd  big  fellow 
now,  you  know." 

Margaret  laughed  gay  ly.     "It's  as  true  now  as  then." 

"Yes,  you  liked  me  a  little  then,  —  at  least  you  told 
me  so ;  "  and  he  looked  at  her  with  some  grateful  warmth 
in  his  eyes. 

"  I  did?  I  am  astonished  at  myself.  It  was  highly 
improper  to  do  so." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that.     But  it  is  quite  too  late  to 


THE  HOLLANDS.  325 

be  prudish  over  it  now.  You  not  only  said  it,  but  wrote 
it  to  me,  in  a  most  charming  little  letter,  the  week  after 
you  left  us." 

' '  How  you  shock  me,  Duke,  bringing  me  face  to  face 
with  such  youthful  follies  !  I  had  no  idea  I  had  said  so 
much  to  any  of  your  sex,  except  papa." 

"lean  prove  it  to  you;  I  have  the  little  note-paper 
on  which  '  'tis  writ,'  among  my  childish  treasures.  The 
edges  are  grown  a  little  yellow  with  time." 

"You  have,  Duke?  I  am  flattered  that  you  should 
have  cared  to  preserve  such  nonsense." 

This  talk  was  dangerous  ground ;  .and  the  young  girl, 
sitting  there  in  her  youth  and  fairness,  was  dangerous  to 
the  eyes  and  soul  of  Duke  Walbridge. 

"I  was  the  one  who  was  flattered,  Margaret.  Did 
you  think  the  paper  which  told  me  that  you  cared  for  me 
was  of  so  little  consequence  that  I  should  destroy  it?" 

"  Of  course  I  did.  But  I  should  really  like  to  see 
that  old,  childish  scrawl  of  mine,  ashamed,  as  I  ought  to 
be,  of  my  imprudence." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  accuse  your  own  pretty 
ingenuousness ;  but  you  shall  certainly  see  the  letter  the 
next  time  you  come  to  us,  for  I  do  not  intend  it  shall 
go  out  of  my  possession,  unless  —  "  Had  he  finished 
the  clause  it  must  have  sealed  the  fate  of  Duke  Wai- 
bridge.  He  happened  to  cateh  sight  of  the  white  hand, 
with  its  sparkle  of  gems,  which  lay  in  her  lap,  and  he 
laid  his  hand  on  it  with  some  tender  gallantry,  and  said :  — 

"  '  In  faith  'twas  a  fair  hand  ; 
And  whiter  than  the  paper  it  writ  on 
Was  the  fair  hand  that  writ.' " 


326  THE  HOLLANDS. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  how  many  lovers 
have  quoted  Lorenzo's  saying,  since  he  first  made  it,  of 
his  "beautiful  Jewess." 

With  a  man  like  Duke  Walbridge,  however,  this 
meant  something.  He  had  not  gone  so  far  without  in- 
tending to  go  farther.  There  was  a  little  pause.  A 
glow  came  into  Margaret's  cheek,  used  as  she  was  to  that 
sort  of  talk  from  men.  A  moment  longer,  and  Duke 
Walbridge  would  have  come  out  abruptly  with  the  ques- 
tion he  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  now  to  ask  her. 

At  that  moment  they  heard  the  voice  of  Margaret's 
father,  in  the  hall.  "  We've  got  hold  of  the  thief, 
then?  "  he  said,  in  loud  tones. 

"Yes,  sir,  we've  bagged  him,"  somebody's  gruff  voice 
replied. 

"Oh,  I'm  glad  to  hear  that !  "  exclaimed  Margaret. 

Duke  turned  toward  her  for  an  explanation.  She 
went  on  rapidly.  "  Papa  found  out  the  other  day  that 
one  of  the  under-clerks  had  been  forging  a  number  of 
small  checks  on  the  house.  The  whole  sum  did  not 
probably  amount  to  five  hundred  dollars ;  but  papa  was 
very  earnest  to  ferret  the  whole  thing  out,  as  he  always 
is  in  such  cases.  I  am  glad  the  rogue  is  where  he  will 
have  no  further  chances  for  mischief." 

"  Was  he  a  young  man  ?  "  inquired  Duke. 

"Yes;  a  mere  boy,  under  twenty.  These  were  prob- 
ably his  first  offences.  Papa  says  he  would  have  trusted 
him  with  uncounted  gold  a  year  and  a  half  ago,  when  he 
came  up  straight  from  the  country ;  but  the  city  proved 
too  much  for  him.  It  does,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 


THE  HOLLANDS.  •     827 

with  that  class,  I  believe.  The  youth  fell  into  bad  com- 
pany and  extravagant  habits  —  and  there's  the  end  of 
him." 

"  Poor  fellow !  how  pitiful  it  is,  Margaret,  that  he 
should  wreck  his  life  at  the  very  threshold  in  that  way  ! 
I  don't  doubt,  too,  but  there  is  some  heart  of  mother  or 
sister  at  home  to  break  over  his -fall." 

"Yes,"  answered  Margaret,  "I  know  it  is  very  bad; 
but  these  things  are  always  happening.  The  papers  are 
full  of  them,  you  know.  If  people  won't  take  care  of 
themselves,  and  do  what  is  right,  they  must  abide  by 
the  consequences.  I  am  glad  papa  has  caugh^  this  rogue. 
He  set  two  shrewd  policemen  on  the  scent.  That  must 
have  been  one  to  whom  he  spoke  just  now  in  the  hall." 

The  light,  smooth  voice !  Margaret  spoke  with  less 
real  interest  than  she  would  have  manifested  over  the 
broken  leg  of  her  canary.  But  the  words,  slipping  down 
the  smooth  voice,  grated  on  the  ear  of  Duke  Walbridge. 
Ice  was  smooth  too ;  but  was  it  harder  and  colder  than 
the  girl's  pity?  he  thought.  Where  was  her  human 
heart,  that  she  could  speak  in  that  light,  careless  way, 
of  a  young  life  wrecked ;  of  a  boy's  soul,  pure  and  hon- 
est only  such  a  little  while  ago,  and  gone  down  so  early 
into  crime  and  shame?  The  words  might  be  excused, 
perhaps,  but  the  careless  tones,  never.  They  brought  up, 
in  a  moment,  all  the  sharp  antagonisms  of  their  inmost 
souls.  Duke  saw  it  clearly.  Margaret  Wheatley  and 
he  might  be  husband  and  wife,  but  between  their  two 
souls  there  could  never  be  intimacy  and  oneness. 

It  was  a  very  small  hinge ;   but  Margaret  Wheatley 


328  .          THE  HOLLANDS. 

did  not  know  her  whole  fate  had  turned  on  it.  It  did 
seem  to  her  that  there  was  some  subtle  change  in  Duke's 
manner;  or,  at  least,  that  he  went  back  into  just  the 
Duke  Walbridge  she  had  always  known ;  talking  in 
his  free,  pleasant,  self-possessed  way.  In  a  little  while 
her  father  and  aunt  came  in  ;  but  all  their  united  ener- 
gies could  not  prevail  upon  their  guest  to  remain  in  the 
city  over  another  day. 

Duke  was  a  stronger,  happier  man,  when  he  started 
for  the  hotel  that  night.  Some  dark  and  doubt  had 
cleared  off  from  his  soul.  He  looked  up  at  the  stars, 
and  he  felt  once  more  that  the  eternal  God  was  over 
them. 

He  began  to  see,  too,  that  there  must  be  something  un- 
sound at  bottom  of  that  man's  character,  who  would  feel 
that  his  life  had  foiled  because  of  any  woman's  nay.  If 
he  could  not  live  worthily  without  her,  he  was  not 
worthy  of  winning  her. 

So  the  hope  and  strength  of  his  youth  came  into 
Duke  Walbridge' s  soul  once  more.  Yet  how  very  near 
he  had  come  at  one  time  to  committing  himself !  Indeed, 
he  felt  a  little  uncomfortably,  recalling  two  or  three 
speeches  he  had  made ;  but  his  honor  was  quite  safe. 

"I  wish  it  could  have  been  different,  Margaret,  old 
playfellow,"  he  murmured  to  himself;  "but  it  was  not 
my  fault.  We  could  never  have  understood  each  other." 

As  for  Margaret  Wheatley,  she  went  to  her  room  that 
night  chagrined  and  disappointed.  She  had  thought  at 
one  time  that  Duke  Walbridge's  manner  meant  some- 
thing. She  must  have  fancied  him  more  than  she  did 


THE  HOLLANDS.  329 

any  other  man,  for  she  sat  down  and  actually  had  a  real 
cry  to  herself.  It  was  the  first,  it  would  be  the  last,  one 
for  his  sake;  but,  for  all  that,  her  tears  had  some  bitter- 
ness in  them.  Then  pride  and  pique  came  to  her  aid. 

To  think  that  she,  Margaret  Wheatley,  with  all  her 
charms,  with  hosts  of  lovers  in  her  train,  could  really  be 
had  for  the  asking,  could  condescend  to  care  for  that  odd, 
incomprehensible  Duke  Walbridge !  She  would  never 
think  of  him  again,  for  he  was  not  worth  it. 

Her  pride,  too,  took  the  alarm,,  for  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley  had  not  been  a  whole  season  in  the  Walbridge  society, 
without  discovering  where  their  tastes  inclined.  Per- 
haps Duke  knew  this  as  well  as  herself.  The  very- 
thought  made  hot  flushes  in  her  face. 

The  banker's  daughter  began  seriously  to  question 
with  herself  whether  there  was  one  among  all  her  suitors 
whom  she  really  fancied. 

28 


THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Six  months  had  passed  away,  and  then  there  came 
sudden  news  from  Ro§s  Holland.  He  was  about  coming 
home. 

If  the  fact  must  be  told,  his  sister  needed  something 
of  just  this  sort  to  rouse  her  up  into  new  animation  and 
energy.  Not  that  she  was  dull  or  melancholy.  She 
went  through  all  her  daily  duties,  she  was  occupied  from 
morning  until  night ;  but  Mrs.  Kent,  who  watched  her 
narrowly,  saw  something  nobody  else  did  behind  all  the 
energy.  She  was  a  hard  taskmaster  to  herself  these 
days,  this  brave  little  Jessamine. 

Her  activity  seldom  flagged,  otherwise  thoughts  and 
memories  would  drift  in,  and  a  dreadful  haunting  ache 
behind  them.  So  she  kept  at  work ;  and  no  doubt  it 
was  best  for  her  to  do  this,  though  her  cheeks  lost  some 
of  their  roundness,  and  there  was  a  grieved,  tired  look 
about  her  mouth  at  times,  which  a  homeless  lost  child 
might  have  worn,  and  which  must  have  touched  anybody 
who  loved  her. 

All  this  time,  Mrs.  Kent  displayed  the  delicate  care 
and  consideration  of  a  tender  sister,  devising  a  thousand 
ways  to  interest  the  girl,  and  to  restrain  her  from  over- 


THE   HOLLANDS.  331 

exertion.  A  great  blow  has  fallen  on  her,  but  Jessa- 
mine thinks  nowhere  in  the  world  could  it  have  been  so 
much  softened  as  under  the  roof- tree  of  Richard  Kent. 

It  is  strange  that  Duke  Walbridge  did  not  come  to  say 
good-by,  and  still  more  singular  that  he  has  not  written 
one  word  since  he  went  away  so  abruptly.  Jessamine 
supposes  that  she  has  the  clue  to  his  silence,  and  it  is  a 
relief  that  he  does  not  write. 

Mrs.  Kent,  though  she  never  alluded  to  the  matter, 
pondered  the  young  man's  conduct  a  good  deal.  It  puz- 
zled the  little  woman's  bright  wits.  Of  course  it  was 
not  possible  to  doubt  his  engagement  with  Margaret 
Wheatley,  after  two  of  his  sisters  had  asserted  it.  Yet 
there  was  something  inexplicable  in  his  conduct,  which 
hardly  seemed  in  keeping  with  the  young  man's  character. 

But  Jessamine  seemed  now  quite  roused  into  her  old 
self  with  the  tidings  from  the  Indies.  The  brother 
whom  she  had  not  seen  for  five  years  was  coming  back  to 
her;  and  so  long  as  Ross  lived  she  would  have  something 
to  live  for.  She  talked  of  little  else  for  days  together, 
and  it  seemed  to  her  that  her  heart  —  the  heart  that  had 
never  beat  quite  strong  and  steady  since  one  dreadful 
night  —  needed  him  now  more  than  ever. 

When  he  came,  she  should  try  to  forget  there  was 
anybody  else  in  the  world ;  although  it  would  come  very 
hard  to  hear  him  go  on  about  his  friend,  as  he  would  be 
sure  to  do,  and  to  have  to  answer  his  questions.  For 
the  first  time  in  her  life,  she  must  have  a  real  secret 
from  Ross.  Well,  one  couldn't  live  in  this  world  with- 
out having  some  things  to  bear  silently. 


332  THE  HOLLANDS. 

A  sudden  wind  of  good  fortune  had  blown  upon  Ross 
Holland.  I  suppose  the  sum  which  in  his  own  eyes  and 
his  sister's  was  to  make  his  worldly  prosperity  would 
have  seemed  absurdly  small  to  most  people  of  very  mod- 
erate means. 

Ross  had  cleared  ten  thousand  dollars  for  his  share,  in 
some  fortunate  commercial  speculations,  which  had 
opened  to  him  through  a  very  wealthy  English  house  in 
Calcutta ;  and  he  had,  in  the  management  of  the  whole 
matter,  evinced  such  practical  business  skill  and  foresight, 
that  the  heads  of  his  own  firm  concluded  to  offer  him  a 
clerkship  in  their  branch  house,  in  New  York. 

The  young  man's  engagement  did  not  exceed  a  couple 
of  years,  although  it  would  no  doubt  be  renewed  at  the 
end  of  that  time,  if  it  was  not  regarded  best  for  him  to 
come  out  again  to  India ;  he  was  to  receive  a  salary,  which, 
with  economy,  would  furnish  the  comforts  and  some  of  the 
graces  of  life  to  himself  and  Jessamine.' 

So,  after  those  five  years  in  that  strange,  sleepy,  gor- 
geous land,  with  its  melancholy,  and  mystery,  and  beauty, 
—  five  years,  panting  slowly  through  their  dead  heats, 
making  a  man  of  him,  as  they  had  made  a  woman  of  Jes- 
samine, —  Ross  was  coming  home. 

Well,  money  is  a  good  thing.  There  was  a  fair  pros- 
pect now,  that  Jessamine  would  have  her  cottage,  with  its 
half-dozen  rooms,  and  its  one  veranda,  and  its  bits  of 
balconies,  —  a  little  brown  cage,  hung  up  a  few  miles  from 
the  city,  in  some  greenery  of  shrubs. 

"  You  could  set  the  whole  thing  in  your  drawing-room, 
Mrs.  Kent,"  said  Jessamine,  with  her  old,  pleased,  arch 


THE  HOLLANDS.  333 

laugh,  to  that  lady,  for  the  latter  went  into  the  subject  with 
her  whole  heart ;  and  the  two  spent  a  great  many  hours  in 
devising  the  appointments  of  every  room,  and  the  grieved 
look  about  Jessamine's  mouth  grew  fainter,  and  the  voices 
of  her  childhood,  the  hopes  and  the  dreams,  sang  once 
more  in  her  heart,  softer  and  slower  it  is  true  — 

"  As  though  remembering  she  had  wept." 

One  day  Mrs.  Kent  walked  into  the  room  where  Jessa- 
mine sat,  intent  on  a  cap  she  was  making  for  Ross.  The 
lady  walked  first  to  the  window.  Outside  there  was  a 
grieving  of  winds,  a  drifting  of  snows,  and  heaps  of  wild, 
desolate  clouds  over  all. 

Mrs.  Kent  shivered  a  little,  and  then  took  up  the 
previous  day's  paper  which  happened  to  lie  in  her  work- 
basket.  Running  over  the  columns,  she  stopped  sudden- 
ly, drew  her  breath  quickly  :  her  strained  eyes  devoured 
some  paragraph,  and  a  little  low  cry  broke  from  her  lips. 

11  Did  yeu  speak  to  me?  "  asked  Jessamine,  absorbed 
in  contemplating  the  effect  of  her  work. 

"I  —  no  —  I  believe  not." 

Even  then,  Jessamine  did  not  observe  the  singular  tone. 
She  was  not  facing  the  window  where  Mrs.  Kent  stood, 
with  the  paper  in  her  hand,  looking  at  the  drooping, 
shining  head,  with  strained  eyes,  full  of  horror. 

At  last,  the  silence  must  have  struck  Jessamine.  She 
turned  around,  and  met  her  friend's  stare,  before  the  latter 
could  move  away. 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter?  Has  anything  hap- 
pened?" asked  the  girl,  startled  at  that  look. 


334  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  No  —  yes  —  I  believe  so.  Don't  ask  me,  Miss  Jes- 
samine ;  "  a  spasm  of  pain  in  her  voice. 

Jessamine  was  terrified.  Something  awful  had  hap- 
pened, but  she  had  still  no  suspicion  that  it  concerned  her. 
The  work  dropped  from  her  hands.  She  rose  and  went 
straight  to  Mrs.  Kent,  and  laid  her  hand  on  the  lady's 
arm. 

"Whatever  it  is,  lam  your  friend.  Tell  me,"  she 
said. 

Then  the  lady,  with  the  wide  horror  still  in  her  eyes, 
groaned  out,  "I  cannot  —  I  cannot — Miss  Jessamine, 
lest  it  kill  you  !  " 

" Me!  "  A  pallor,  coming  swift  as  lightning  into  her 
face.  "  Does  it  concern  me,  Mrs.  Kent?  " 

The  lady  was  dumb. 

.    Then  Jessamine's  fears  leaped  at  once  to  the  truth,  — 
"  And  Boss  —  oh  !  some  harm  has  come  to  him  !  " 

As  she  spoke,  and  before  Mrs.  Kent  could  reply,  the 
girl  caught  sight  of  the  paper.  Springing  forward,  she 
tore  it  out  of  the  lady's  unwilling  hands.  Her  eyes  went 
straight  to  the  fatal  paragraph.  They  gathered  out  its 
significance  in  a  moment :  — 

"  The  '  Nestor,'  an  East-Indiaman,  heavily  laden,  had 
sailed  from  Calcutta,  bound  to  Liverpool,  on  the  fourteenth 
ult.  She  had  encountered  in  the  Indian  Ocean  one  of  the 
most  terrible  gales  within  the  memory  of  men  now  living. 
The  stanch  old  steamer,  which  had  ridden  out  many  a 
tropical  storm,  had  gone  to  pieces  at  last.  Not  one  of  her 
passengers  had  been  saved.  A  few  of  the  crew  had  got  off 


THE  HOLLANDS.  335 

in  a  raft,  and  reached  the  shore,  to  tell  the  fate  of  the  lost 
vessel."  / 

It  was  in  the  Nestor,  bound  from  Calcutta  to  Liverpool, 
that  Ross  Holland  was  to  sail  on  the  fourteenth  ult. 

Jessamine  stood  still  a  moment,  with  her  rigid  face  and 
her  glaring  eves  turned  on  her  friend,  while  the  truth  en- 
tered slowly  into  brain  and  heart.  The  she  put  up  her 
hands,  and  a  slow  cry  welled  out  of  her  lips,  —  a  slow, 
wailing  cry,  as  though  her  youth  and  hope,  and  all  that 
there  was  to  desire  in  life,  went  down  in  it.  "0  my 
God!  I  am  all  alone  in  thy  world  —  all  alone  !  "  and 
with  that  cry  she  dropped  at  Mrs.  Kent's  feet. 


336  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


. 


A  MONTH  has  come  and  gone,  and  Jessamine  Holland  is 
alive  still.  There  was  no  danger  that  she  would  die  from 
the  beginning.  There  was  too  much  strong,  joung  life  i» 
her  to  go  out  under  any  swift  blow  of  sorrow. 

It  is  true  that  Mrs.  Kent  did  not  reason  in  that  way. 
She  saw  her  friend's  face  grow  sharper  and  older  each 
day,  while  no  tears,  no  strong  emotion  of  any  sort,  seemed 
to  break  up  its  dead,  white  calm.  She  looked,  as  faces  do, 
when  the  hearts  under  them  are  broken.  After  the  first 
week,  during  which  the  girl  was  too  ill  to  leave  her  room, 
Mrs.  Kent,  who  kept  insisting  that  something  must  be 
done,  sent,  without  consulting  anybody,  for  Hannah  Bray. 

The  honest,  faithful  soul  came  at  once.  Mrs.  Kent 
took  her  upstairs  without  acquainting  Jessamine  of  the 
arrival.  "  0  my  poor  baby!"  Mrs.  Bray  burst  out, 
as  soon  as  she  crossed  the  door-sill,  and  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  white,  young,  hopeless  face  on  the  pillow. 

The  familiar  voice,  the  homely,  kindly  face,  the  very 
words  she  had  heard  so  often,  broke  up  the  dead  calm  at  last. 

The  old  home,  the  dreamy  father,  the  anxious  mother, 
the  boy  brother,  —  all  rushed,  like  the  rushing  of  mighty 
winds  upon  Jessamine's  soul.  She  put  out  her  arms,  just 


THE  HOLLANDS.  337 

as  she  had  often  done  when  she  was  a  baby;  and  Hannah 
Bray  took  the  girl  in  her  arms,  just  as  she  had  done  then, 
and  after  long  waiting,  the  agony  of  sobs  and  tears,  which 
Jessamine's  heart  had  carried  all  this  time,  poured  itself 
forth  on  the  old,  faithful  bosom. 

"  It  will  kill  her  —  it  certainly  will !  "  said  poor,  fright- 
ened Mrs.  Kent,  crying  like  a  child  herself. 

"  No,  it  won't  ;  it  will  do  her  good  in  the  end,"  sobbed 
Hannah  Bray. 

And  it  did.  Jessamine  slept  that  night  the  sound, 
dreamless  sleep  of  overwrought  soul  and  body ;  and  when 
she  awoke  in  the  morning,  there  was  the  old,  dear,  home- 
ly face  at  her  pillow,  working  and  smiling  betwixt 
tenderness  and  pity,  and  a  little  ghost  of  a  smile  came 
out  on  Jessamine's  lips. 

They  brought  the  baby  to  her,  and  he  looked,  with  his 
blue,  wondering  eyes,  into  "Aunt  Dess' "  face,  finding 
something  there  which  he  could  not  understand :  and  then 
he 'laid  down  his  fresh,  dewy  cheek  on  hers,  and  the  touch- 
entered  into  her  heart  and  comforted  her.  For  a  while 
it  seemed  to  Jessamine  she  could  see  nothing  but  that  black 
sky,  hear  nothing  but  the  shrieks  of  the  wind  through 
the  cordage,  and  the  thunder  of  those  black,  swirling 
waves,  into  which  the  dear  face  went  down ;  but  very 
softly,  little  by  little,  other  sights  and  sounds  came  to  take 
their  places. 

It  is  true,  she  was  all  alone  in  the  world  ;  but  it  was 
God's  world,  after  all ;  and  the  heaven  where  her  house- 
hold was  gathered  was  his  also.  One  day  she  expected  to 
find  them  there.  The  desolate,  empty  years  were  before 

29 


338  THE  HOLLANDS. 

her,  the  lonely,  tired,  aching  heart,  if  Gqjl  so  willed,  to 
carry  across  them  ;  and  thinking  this,  she  would  turn  away 
her  head  and  cry  slowly  to  herself  with  the  awful  sound- 
ing of  those  distant  seas,  under  which,  somewhere,  the 
dear  head  was  lying  so  low,. 

But  it  was  something  that  now  she  asked  every  day  for 
the  baby,  and  asked  Hannah  Bray,  too,  all  kinds  of  ques- 
tions about  her  home,  and  the  tow-headed  children  there. 

Then,  what  a  friend  Mrs.  Kent  was  !  "  You  shall  have 
a  home  with  us  as  long  as  you  live,"  said  the  generous 
little  Avoman ;  "and  when  we  get  quite  insufferable,  we 
will  let  you  off  for  a  little  while,  to  go  up  and  see  Han- 
nah Bray.  But,  mind,  we  shall  be  after  you  if  you  stay 
long."  ' 

Her  husband,  -too,  was  so  thoughtful  and  sympathetic, 
that  Jessamine,  in  her  gratitude,  thought  she  had  never 
fully  appreciated  the  man  before.  It  is  true,  the  sym- 
pathy of  Richard  Kent  took  that  practical  shape  which 
was  the  man's  habit,  and  which  Jessamine  specially  stood 
in  need  of.  He  ascertained  at  once,  from  the  branch  of 
the  East  India  house  in  New  York,  whether  the  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  were  secure  from  all  mischance  ;  and  when  he 
learned  that  the  brother's  death  in  no  wise  affected  his 
fortune,  he  set  about  having  it  well  secured  to  Jessamine, 
and  promised  her  to  invest  it  where  it  would  bring  fat 
dividends,  —  "  twelve  per  cent,  at  the  smallest,  child." 

So  Jessamine  had  her  fortune  at  last,  and  Ross  had  paid 
his  life  to  find  it !  Still,  his  sister  knew  that  in  the  last 
hour,  when  the  young  soul  gazed  death  in  the  face,  he 
had  remembered  with  a  flash  of  joy  that  he  should  not 


THE  HOLLANDS.  339 

leave  his  sister  helpless  and  dependent  in  the  world.  All 
this  was  proved  by  the  care  he  had  taken,  before  he  sailed 
from  Calcutta,  to  secure  his  fortune  to  her  in  case  any 
mischance  befell  him.  And  Mr.  Kent,  having  had  am- 
ple proofs  of  this  foresight  when  he  visited  the  branch 
house  in  New  York,  returned  loud  in  the  young  man's 
praises. 

"  The  whole  thing  did  honor  to  his  head  and  heart," 
he  told  Jessamine ;  and  it  was  sweet,  and  sad  too,  to  re- 
member that  all  the  comfort  and  ease  of  her  future  would 
be  the  gift  of  that  dead  brother. 

She  was  independent  now ;  and  though  she  should  never 
sit  under  the  little  roof-tree  of  the  cottage  that  was  to  be 
Ross'  and  hers,  she  did  find  a  live  thrill  of  pleasure  in 
devising  improvements  for  Hannah  Bray's  house.  The 
woman  should  have  the  new  bedroom  on  which  she  had 
set  her  heart  so  long,  and  the  little  shabby  parlor  should 
be  refurnished. 

No,  Jessamine  was  not  dead  yet.  Of  course  the  sad 
tidings  had  made  a  great  sensation  at  the  Walbridges. 
Eva  had  cried  herself  sick  over  it.  and  there  was  not  one 
of  the  household  who  did  not  think  with  pity  of  Jessamine, 
although  this  feeling  in  the  case  of  a  few  was  mingled  with 
some  other  emotions  anything  but  pleasant! 

Edith's  plans  had  worked  well  thus  far.  It  was  best 
that  her  brother  should  be  allowed  a  little  time  .to  get  over 
the  pain  of  his  disappointment.  His  letters  were  all  she 
could  desire,  odd  and  playful  and  hearty. 

It  was  true  that  he  seemed  in  no  haste  to  return  home. 
11  The  wide,  free,  glorious  life  out  there,"  he  insisted, 


340  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"Avas  grand  as  the  horizon;  the  savage  in  him  relished 
it ;  and  a  buffalo-skin  and  a  wigwam  were  the  only  essen- 
tials of  life.  The  rest  was  pretty  much  all  sham  and 
humbug." 

The  family  laughed ;  but  Edith  began  to  feel  it  was  high 
time  for  Duke  to  return  home.  Her  masterpiece  of  in- 
trigue must  be  followed  up  by  another.  Indeed,  it  had 
been  her  plan  from  the  beginning  to  manage  matters  so 
that  Duke  should  be  precipitated  into  an  engagement  with 
Margaret  Wheatley.  If  it  took  place  at  all,  she  reasoned, 
it  must  be  done  hastily,  and  on  his  part  half  desperately. 

But,  once  done,  she  knew  her  brother  too  well  to  believe 
that  he  would  allow  himself  to  regret  his  proposal.  "  What- 
ever he  might  fancy  he  found  wanting  in  Margaret 
Wheatley,  he  would  deem  it  disloyalty  and  wrong  to  her 
not  to  attempt  to  make  the  best  of  his  own  act. 

"  If  I  could  only  once  get  him  committed  in  some  way," 
said  Edith  to  herself. 

That  she  calculated  shrewdly,  the  facts  had  proved. 
One  moment  only  had  stood  betwixt  Duke  Walbridge  and 
Margaret  Wheatley.  But  Edith  did  not  know  that. 
"  Duke  must  be  got  home  by  one  means,  as  he  had  been 
got  off  by  another,"  his  sister  reasoned. 

She  made  up  her  mind  to  go  to  New  York  for  a  while. 
And  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  convince  Mr.  Walbridge  that 
he  was  not  as  well  as  usual  that  winter,  and  absolutely 
required  his  son  in  the  city  to  transact  some  important 
business  at  this  juncture. 

So  pa's  health  was  made  the  argument  to  induce  Duke 
to  return  to  New  York.  The  latter  had  made  up  his 


THE  HOLLANDS.  341 

mind  to  pass  the  winter  in  the  territories,  and  no  weaker 
reason  would  have  availed  to  bring  him  home. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  Avas  haunted  all  day  by  thoughts  of  a 
young,  hopeless  face,  which  seemed  to  look  at  her  with 
something  reproachful  in  its  eyes ;  and  one  night  she 
dreamed  that  the  girl's  mother  stood  by  her  bedside,  and 
asked  in  solemn,  plaintive  tones,  "What  have  you  done 
to  my  poor  little  motherless  girl  ?" 

Mrs.  Walbridge  woke  up  in  a  great  tremor,  and  was  not 
herself  all  the  next  day. 

It  was  a  most  unpleasant  duty  to  call  on  Jessamine 
Holland :  but  Mrs.  Walbridge  braced  herself  to  do  it  at 
once.  It  was  before  Hannah  Bray's  arrival ;  and  that 
week  the  doctor  had  insisted  on  Jessamine's  being  kept 
free  from  all  agitation,  so  the  lady  did  not  see  Jessamine. 

But  Mrs.  Walbridge  did  her  part  well.  Every  day  she 
sent  inquiries  and  kind  messages  with  her  younger 
daughters;  also  choice  bouquets  and  delicacies. 
-  Gertrude  was  out  of  town  at  this  time,  and  Edith 
always  had  some  excellent  excuse  for  delaying  her  call 
until  next  day.  What  wonder  that  she  shrank  from  meet- 
ing the  eyes  of  Jessamine  Holland  ? 

In  the  remote  part  of  the  territory  where  Duke  was  the 
mails  were  irregular,  and  Edith  took  good  care  to  detain 
the  letter  which  published  the  loss  of  the  steamer  in  which 
Ross  Holland  had  sailed:  Not  that  she  could  really  see 
how  Duke's  knowledge  of  his  friend's  death  would  mate- 
rially affect  her  plans.  It  might,  indeed,  promote  them. 
If  her  brother  should  conceive  it  his  duty  to  have  an 
interview  with  Miss  Holland  on  his  return,  the  recent 


342  THE  HOLLANDS. 

sorrow  would  be  likely  to  preoccupy  both,  and  no  danger- 
ous topics  would  then  be  opened  between  them. 

Still,  a  little  doubtful,  she  not  only  detained  the  paper, 
but  prevailed  upon  her  mother  to  forbid  Eva's  acquainting 
her  brother  with  his  loss,  which  the  child,  full  of  ardent 
sympathy,  was  on  the  eve  of  doing.  At  last,  however, 
Mrs.  Walbridge  insisted  that  her  son  should  no  longer  be 
kept  in  ignorance  of  what  concerned  him  so  deeply,  and 
Edith  assented  with  a  tolerable  grace. 

"Perhaps  mamma  was  right,"  she  reasoned.  "The 
truth  would  have  to  come  out  some  time,  and  any  longer 
suppression  of  it  might,  in  the  end,  raise  some  rather  un- 
comfortable questions." 

The  tidings  found  Duke  Walbridge  looking  forward 
most  reluctantly  to  the  necessity  of  returning  home,  which 
every  letter  seemed  to  make  more  imperative.  That 
broad,  free,  strong  life  of  the  prairies  had  braced  anew  the 
sinews  of  his  soul.  The  spirit  of  those  grand,  solemn 
horizons  had  entered  into  him.  If  they  had  not  healed 
his  disappointment,  they  had  made  him  brave  to  bear  it, 
and  the  active,  material,  wrestling  life  was  just  now  what 
was  needed  for  a  temperament  with  a  strong,  natural  bias 
toward  a  dreamy,  aesthetic  indolence. 

The  news  of  Ross  Holland's  death  fairly  stunned  his 
friend  at  the  first.  When  he  rallied  from  the  blow,  his 
thought  went  straight  to  the  sister  in  her  grief  and  lone- 
liness, and  to  his  last  solemn  pledge  to  Ross. 

Her  rejection  of  himself  had  not  cancelled  that  bond. 
In  all  its  binding  force  it  lay  upon  his  soul  now,  —  now 
that  the  brave  young  head  lay  in  the  stillness  of  those  far- 


THE  HOLLANDS.  343 

off  Eastern  seas.  There  had  been  none  standing  by  to 
plunge  in  and  rescue  him  in  the  tumult  and  the  darkness, 
as  once  he  had  plunged  in  to  save  another. 

And  must  he  go  back  and  look  in  Jessamine  Holland's 
face,  and  touch  her  hand,  and  hear  her  voice  ? 

Across  the  years  rose  the  memory  of  that  awful  night 
on  the  Sound ;  across  the  years  stole  the  words  he  had 
spoken:  "You  may  trust  me.  I  will  be  a  brother  to 
her. ' '  And  Ross  must  have  thought  of  them  when  he  went 
down  that  night. 


"Miss  Holland,  a  gentleman  has  called  to  see  you," 
said  the  servant,  at  the  door  of  Mrs.  Kent's  sitting-room, 
to  which  Jessamine  had  come  down  for  the  first  time  since 
her  illness.  About  this,  there  had  been  nothing  danger- 
ous ;  only  a  kind  of  slow,  nervous  fever  had  prostrated  her. 

There  was  quite  a  family  group  around  the  girl  reclin- 
ing on  the  lounge.  Mrs.  Kent  and  Hannah  Bray  were 
there  with  the  baby. 

Jessamine  had  a  vague  hope  that  somebody  from  the 
Indies,  or  from  the  lost  ship,  would  search  her  oat  some 
time  with  tidings  of  her  lost  brother.  So  she  said  very 
earnestly,  "If  you  will  allow  him  to  come  up  here,  Mrs. 
Kent?" 

"  0  child,  you're  not  able  to  bear  the  sight  of  com- 
pany," put  in  Hannah  Bray. 

But  Jessamine  insisted,  and  it  was  the  habit  of  the 
house  to  indulge  her.  Mrs.  Kent  of  course  assented,  and 
the  gentleman  was  shown  up. 


344  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Duke  Walbridge  came  forward,  and  as  Jessamine  turned 
and  looked  at  him,  and  he  caught  sight  of  the  white, 
sharpened  face,  a  cry  broke  out  of  his  lips  :  "0  Jes- 
samine !  "  and  he  took  both  her  hands,  everything  else 
swallowed  up  that  moment  in  the  thought  of  her  sorrow 
and  his  own. 

And  the  depth  of  her  grief  made  her  almost  calm  to 
meet  this  man.  Her  face  quivered,  it  is  true,  and  for 
a  while  neither  could  speak,  and  Mrs.  Kent  and  Hannah 
Bray  went  out,  leaving  them  alone  to  talk  of  their  dead 
together. 

"It  was  very  good  of  you  to  come,  Mr.  Walbridge," 
said  Jessamine,  looking  at  him  with  her  dark  eyes,  which 
seemed  to  have  grown  so  much  larger  and  sadder. 

' '  I  started  the  day  after  I  learned.  The  paper  con- 
taining the  account  never  reached  me ;  and  my  family 
hesitated  to  write,  dreading  to  inflict  the  blow." 

"  And  because  of  that  you  came  all  this  way,  Mr.  Wai- 
bridge?" 

"  Certainly.  If  you  have  forgotten  what  I  promised 
him  on  our  last  meeting,  I  could  not." 

She  forgot  then  that  she  was  talking  to  the  betrothed 
husband  of  Margaret  Wheatley ;  she  only  remembered 
that  he  was  Ross'  friend  and  her  own,  and  she  put  her 
hand  in  his,  in  the  old  way  that  he  remembered. 

"  No ;  I  have  not  forgotten,"  she  said. 

Hannah  Bray  was  quite  too  doubtful  of  the  effect  of 
any  strong  emotion  on  Jessamine  to  leave  the  girl  and  her 
friend  long  together.  Mrs.  Kent,  who  was  strongly  drawn 
.toward  the  faithful,  honest  heart  under  the  homely, 


THE  HOLLANDS.  345 

faded  face,  always  yielded  to  Hannah's  experience  and 
judgment.  So  the  woman  stole  back  in  a  iittle  while ; 
and  after  she  had  been  introduced  to  Mr.  Walbridge,  the 
talk  was  carried  on  mostly  betwixt  the  man  and  the  elder 
woman.  •  Hannah's  heart  and  tongue  were  full  of  Ross 
these  days. 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Kent,  downstairs,  was  holding  a  sol- 
emn parley  with  herself.  She  was  a  resolute  little 
woman,  and  she  had  watched  Duke  Walbridge  breath- 
lessly when  he  came  forward  to  meet  Jessamine.  The 
feeling  that  leaped  into  his  eyes  with  their  first  glance, 
was  one  to  which  the  lover  of  Margaret  Wheatley  had 
no  right. 

The  lady  felt  an  inexplicable  hankering  to  allude  to 
the  fact  of  his  betrothal  to  the  young  man's  face.  It 
was  a  delicate  thing  to  do  this,  as  the  matter  had  been 
kept  so  profound  a  secret,  and  the  lady  herself  was 
pledged  not  to  divulge  it.  But  it  was  not  revealing  the 
man's  secret  to  speak  of  it  to  himself. 

"  If  I  only  had  a  chance,  and  it  would  come  in  nat- 
urally," she  mused.  And  at  last  she  heard  Duke  Wal- 
bridge steps  on  the  stairs,  and  went  into  the  drawing- 
room,  where  she  would  be  certain  to  meet  him. 

His  face  brightened  as  he  saw  the  lady,  and  after  a 
cordial  greeting  he  sat  down  and  commenced  talking  of 
Jessamine. 

He  was  quite  overwhelmed  at  her  appearance,  and  was 
full  of  eager  questions  about  her ;  and  Mrs.  Kent  went 
over  the  sad  story  of  the  day  when  the  woful  tidings 
reached  them. 


846  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  Poor  Ross  !  He  was  my  best  friend.  I  loved  him 
as  I  did  my«own  life.  He  came  near  losing  his  once  for 
mine.  I  shall  never  have  another  friend  like  him." 
The  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  in  Mrs.  Kent's  too.  "  If 
there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  Miss  Holland,  I  Jbeg  you 
will  give  me  that  mournful  satisfaction.  I  promised 
Ross,  just  as  we  separated,  that  if  any  harm  befell  him, 
I  should  stand  always  in  his  stead  to  his  sister.  I  shall 
hold  that  promise  sacred  to  the  last  hour  of  my  life." 

"  She  has  so  few  friends, — poor,  lonely  *  heart-broken 
child!"  murmured  Mrs.  Kent.  "She  would  be  very 
grateful  to  hear  you  say  that,  Mr.  Walb ridge." 

"  Grateful !  "  There  was  a  sting  of  mournfulness  or 
bitterness  in  his  voice,  which  struck  Mrs.  Kent.  "  She 
can  never  have  any  cause  for  that  feeling  toward  me.  I 
owe  it  to  her  brother  that  I  am  alive  to-day."  And 
again  Duke  Walbridge  added —  "  Poor  Ross  !  " 

Mrs.  Kent  was  no  femaje  Machiavel,  but  she  was  not 
without  the  tact  of  her  sex.  If  she  could  only  find 
some  by-path  to  the  subject  which  perplexed  her. 

Duke's  next  remark  opened  one.  "My  family,  out 
of  mistaken  kindness,  delayed  the  blow  as  long  as  pos- 
sible ;  and  then,  although  I  was  on  the  lookout),  as  my 
friend  had  written  me  in  -what  steamer  he  should  take 
passage  for  Liverpool,  the  paper  containing  the  ship- 
wreck of  the  Nestor  miscarried.  But  you  may  be  cer- 
tain I  made  all  possible  haste  in  returning.  I  did  not 
even  stop  over  one  train  in  New  York  last  evening,  to 
see  my  sister  Edith,  but  hurried  across  the  city." 

Mrs.  Kent  stumbled  desperately  into  the  opening  here 


THE  HOLLANDS.  347 

afforded  her,  not  certain  whether  doing  so  was  in  good 
taste,  but  she  resolved  to  venture. 

"You  were  Very  kind,  but  I  almost  fear,  Mr.  Wai- 
bridge,  that  a  lady  who  has  better  claims  on  you  than 
even  your  sister  will  feel  herself  neglected." 

The  young  man  stared  amazed  at  his  hostess.  He 
had,  what  his  sisters  regarded,  a  sublime  contempt  for 
gossip,  and  was  usually  invulnerable  to  all  that  light 
skirmishing  of  hints  and  jests,  which  affords  so  much 
pretty,  foolish  amusement. 

Such  a  copl  broadside  as  Mrs.  Kent's,  however,  could 
not  but  amaze  him  a  little. 

"  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Kent,  you  are  entirely  mistaken. 
No  such  lady,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  exists." 

It  was  hardly  the  tjme  for  jests,  hut  Mrs.  Kent  was 
not  the  woman  to  pause  now. 

"0  Mr.  Walbridge  !  "  —  with  that  little  laugh,  and 
toss  of  the  head,  which  her  husband  thought  the  most 
charming  thing  in  the  world,  and  which  certainly  was 
very  attractive  in  its  way,  —  "what  a  fine  actor  was 
spoiled  when  you  turned  — •  I  cannot  precisely  say  what. 
You  really  look  so  innocent,  that  I  should  be  imposed 
upon,  if  my  information  were  not  derived  from  a  source 
which  places  the  matter  beyond  a  doubt." 

Some  foolish  gossip  evidently  had  been  busy  with  his 
name*  still  it  was  Best  now  to  set  the  lady  right. 

"Mrs.  Kent,  I  think  you  believe  me  a  man  of  my 
word,  and  that  I  should  scorn  to  deny  an  imputation  of 
the  sort  you  have  made,  if  there  were  one  particle  of 
truth  in  it ;  but  I  assure  you,  on  my  honor,  that  I  have 


348  THE  HOLLANDS. 

not  the  faintest  idea  of  what  you  mean,  or  to  what  lady 
you  allude." 

It  was  impossible  to  believe  that  Duke  "Walbridge  did 
not  mean  what  he  said ;  indeed,  it  would  have  been  sim- 
ply an  insult  to  imply  any  farther  doubt  of  his  sincerity. 

Mrs.  Kent's  heart  half  choked  her ;  but  she  had  de- 
termined now  that  Duke  Walbridge  should  not  leave  her 
house  until  she  had  reached  the  bottom  of  this  mystery. 

"I  can  only  say,  Mr.  Walbridge,  that  you  utterly 
confound  me,  for  I  had  the  story  of  your  engagement 
from  Miss  Jessamine." 

"  The  story  of  my  engagement  from  Miss  Jessamine  ?  " 
repeating  each  word  slowly,  like  a  man  half-dazed,  try- 
ing to  take  in  the  meaning.  "  Did  she  believe  it?  " 

"How  could  she  help  it,  when  she  had  the  whole 
from  the  lips  of  your  own  sisters  ?  ' ' 

He  started  then.     His  breath  came  quickly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Mrs.  Kent  —  do  I  understand 
you —  Duke  paused  a  moment,  trying  to  steady 
his  thoughts.  "Forgive  me,  my  dear  madam.  You 
have  so  confounded  me,  that  I  am  at  a  loss  for  words." 

"  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Walbridge,  you  are  not  a  more 
astonished  man  than  I  am  woman,  at  this  moment." 

A  pause ;  then  young  Walbridge  drew  his  chair  nearer 
the  lady.  ' '  Will  you  be  my  friend,  Mrs.  Kent ;  will 
you  answer  my  next  questions  ?  " 

"If  lean,  Mr.  Walbridge;"  replying  only  to  half 
of  his. 

"  To  whom  did  my  sisters  say  I  was  engaged  ?  " 

"  To  Miss  Margaret  Wheatley." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  349 

She  felt  him  start,  and  she  fancied  he  grew  paler 
about  the  lips. 

"  Which  of  my  sisters  told  her  so  ?  " 

"  Miss  Edith,  I  am  certain,  though  Miss  Gertrude  was 
present,  and  assented  to  all." 

"  When  was  it,  and  where  ?  " 

"On  a  ride  they  took  together  not  more  than  two 
days  before  you  went  away.  Miss  Jessamine,  I  am 
certain,  never  suspected  this  before,  but  your  sisters 
stated  that  the  engagement  had  been  a  long  one,  and 
your  extreme  distaste  to  having  such  a  subject  a  matter 
of  common  gossip  had  confined  the  knowledge  to  your 
own  family." 

"  And  you  say  Miss  Holland  believed  this?  "  he  again 
inquired. 

"  Mr.  Walbridge,  it  was  the  explicit  statement  of  your 
sisters ;  there  was  no  room  left  to  doubt." 

Duke  Walbridge  sprang  from  his  chair,  and  rushed 
toward  the  door  in  a  way  that  fairly  frightened  Mrs. 
Kent.  Was  he  about  to  break  in  upon  Jessamine  Hol- 
land, and  deny  all,  and  what  would  be  the  effect  upon 
the  girl's  shattered  nerves  ? 

But  when  he  reached  the  door.  Duke  Walbridge  paused 
suddenly,  drew  back  and  wheeled  round,  and  then  walked 
up  and  down  the  room  two  or  three  times,  like  a  man 
distraught. 

Then  he  came  and  sat  down  by  Mrs.  Kent,  who  was 
almost  as  much  agitated  as  himself.  He  was  deadly 
pale.  From  her  heart  the  woman  pitied  him. 

"Mrs.    Kent," — speaking  slowly  and  solemnly, — 


350  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"  that  there  ever  was  an  engagement  betwixt  Margaret 
WheatleJ*  and  myself,  or  a  remote  hint  of  one,  I  ab- 
solutely deny.  You  believe  me  ?  " 

"Entirely,  Mr.  Walbridge." 

"My  amazement  and  horror  that  any  sister  of  mine, 
knowing  the  truth,  whatever  she  might  have  desired, 
should  have  deliberately  uttered  such  a  falsehood,  com- 
pletely unmans  me.  But  I  shall  recover  myself,  and  then 
I  shall  search  this  matter  to  the  bottom." 

His  eyes  blazed  a  moment,  and  Mrs.  Kent  thought  to 
herself,  "  I  would  not  stand  in  those  girls'  shoes  for  all 
the  world  could  give  me." 

Soon  afterward  the  young  man  took  his  leave,  Mrs. 
Kent  engaging  not  to  relate  one  word  of  their  conversa- 
tion ;  and  the  lady  and  her  guest  parted  friends  for  life. 

Mrs.  Kent  was  too  far  excited  to  return  upstairs. 
She  continued  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  muttering 
to  herself,  in  a  fragmentary  way,  "  Oh  !  to  think  of  it ! 
—  to  think  of  it !  My  poor  Jessamine  !  What  awful 
wickedness  !  But  it  will  all  come  out  now  !  " 

Duke  Walbridge  rode  home  slowly,  trying  to  clear  up 
his  thoughts.  Doubt,  amazement,  horror,  in  turns,  pos- 
sessed him ;  across  all  would  flash  sometimes  a  feverish, 
awful  joy.  "Had  Jessamine  Holland  believed  he  was 
really  betrothed  to  Margaret  Wheatley,  and  did  that  ac- 
count for  her  silence  ?  " 

Yet  what  must  she  think,  in  that  case,  of  his  letter  ? 

The  basest  of  men  would  hardly  venture  to  write  such 
to  one  woman,  knowing  he  was  bound  to  another. 

It  was  all  a  mystery ;  but  his  whole  soul  was  bent  on 


THE  HOLLANDS.  351 

/ 

its  solution.  Still  he  was  quite  worn  out  with  all  he 
had  just  undergone,  added  to  a  week  of  sleepless  nights 
and  days  of  travel.  As  Duke  dismounted  at  the  barn- 
door, the  coachman  came  out,  and  spoke  to  his  young 
master.  Duke  had  never  associated  the  man  with  the 
matter;  indeed,  he  had  as  yet  shaped  for  himself  no 
plan  of  action  in  this  emergency ;  but  now,  with  a  sud- 
den impulse,  he  asked,  "John,  you  remember  a  let- 
ter I  sent  by  you  to  Miss  Holland,  a  couple  of  days  be- 
fore I  started  West." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  John,  intent  on  removing  the 
saddle  at  that  moment.  • 

"You  saw  Miss  Holland,  —  you  gave  the  letter  into 
her  hands  just  as  I  desired  you?  " 

"I  gave  the  letter  into  her  hands,  sir." 

John's  face  was  turned  away.  His  master  was  watch- 
ing keenly.  There  was  something  not  just  right  in  the 
man's  voice. 

John  turned  toward  the  barn.  Duke  sprang  forward,  and 
his  hand  clutched  the  other's  and  there  seemed  in  it  the 
grip  of  ten  giants. 

' '  Stand  still,  John.  Look  me  straight  in  the  face  now. 
Did  any  human  being  but  yourself  know  about  that 
letter?" 

"Well,  yes,  one  person  did  —  I  couldn't  help  it;" 
frightened  at  that  white  face,  and  the  eyes  that  blazed  out 
of  it ;  frightened  at  the  menace  in  the  tones  too. 

"  Who  was  that  person  ?  " 

"  I  promised  not  to  tell ;  but  —  but  —  don't  look  at  me 
in  that  way,  sir.  It  was  Miss  Edith.  She  found  it  out 


352  THE  HOLLANDS. 

some  way.  I  was  al'ays  afraid  there  was  something 
wrong  at  the  bottom  of  it." 

"  Come  into  the  barn,  John."  • 

The  man  followed  meekly  enough,  and  went  through  a 
most  rigid  half-hour's  inquisition.  John  did  not  try  to 
conceal  anything.  He  dreaded  that  white  face  and  those 
tones  more  than  he  could  any  possible  storm  of  anger  from 
Miss  Edith. 

So  it  all  came  out.  The  promise  she  had  extorted  from 
him  at  night,  and  the  conversation  which  had  transpired 
betwixt  them  the  following  day  in  her  room,  after  John 
had  received  the  letter  and  the  message  for  Miss  Hol- 
-land. 

"  She  took  the  letter  from  you,  you  say,  John,  held  it 
up  to  the  light  a  moment,  and  then  returned  it  to  you  ?  " 
going  over  slowly  every  point  of  the  coachman's  story. 

1 '  Yes,  sir.  She  said  it  was  the  letter.  I  felt  mighty 
uncomfortable  over  it,  anyhow ;"  twisting  his  legs  about  in 
his  agitation  and  excitement,  in  a  way  that  must  have 
struck  his  young  master  at  any  other  time  as  immensely 
comical. 

"  She  said  it  was  the  letter.  Now,  John,  I  give  you 
full  warning  that  I  am  in  no  mood  to  be  trifled  with.  If 
you  deceive  me  now,  or  hold  anything  back,  it  will  sure- 
ly be  the  worse  for  you ;  for,  if  it  cost  me  my  life,  I  will 
clear  up  this  whole  thing.  Did  you  believe  that  letter 
my  sister  handed  back  was  the  one  I  gave  you?  " 

"I  wasn't  jest  certin.  Miss  Edith's  back  was  turned 
to  me  a  minit,  and  it  sort  o'  seemed  to  me  she  took  up 
somethin'  from  the  table.  I  could  tell  your  handwritin', 


THE  HOLLANDS.  353 

too,  among  ten  thousand.  I  saw  it  on  the  back  of  the 
letter  you  gave  me.  The  one  I  took  from  Miss  Edith  was 
different,  —  a  finer,  smaller  hand,  jest  like  her  own." 

That  was  enough.  Duke  was  silent  a  moment,  because 
he  could  not  speak.  At  last  he  asked  quietly,  "  Did 
my  sister  reward  you  afterward?  " 

"  She  put  a  five-dollar  bill  in  my  hand.  I'd  rather 
given  her  twice  as  much  to  be  clear  of  the  whole  thing. 
However,  all  I  did  was  to  tell  Miss  Holland  I'd  brought 
her  a  letter,  not  to  say  you  sent  it." 

"That  was  all?" 

"Ye-es,  sir." 

"  No ;  there  was  something  else.  I  plainly  see  it  in 
your  manner.  I  must  have  the  whole  truth,  John." 

"  That  afternoon  I  took  your  sisters  —  Miss  Edith  and 
Miss  Gertrude  —  to  drive,  and  they  stopped  for  Miss  Hol- 
land. Jest  as  she  got  into  the  carriage,  I  thought  she 
thanked  Miss  Walbridge  for  her  invitation  that  mornin'. 
That  was  all." 

Duke  Walbridge  staggered  like  a  drunken  man  to  the 
window  to  get  breath.  The  mystery  began  to  clear  up 
now ;  but  the  shock  was  awful.  That  his  sisters,  with 
whom  he  had  grown  up,  whom  he  had  love'd  and  trusted, 
with  whom  he  had  been  cross  and  merry,  surly  and  tender, 
as  the  mood  happened,  —  his  sisters  could  practise  a  de- 
ception so  deep  and  base  on  him,  was  like  the  shaking  of 
sudden  earthquakes  under  his  feet. 

There  came  a  thought  more  awful  still.  Did  his  mother 
know,  and  had  she  countenanced,  aided  all  this  ?  For  a 
moment  it  seemed  as  thouh  some  foul  taint  throbbed  in 


354  THE  HOLLANDS. 

his.  blood,  as  though  his  own  truth,  and  honor,  and  man- 
hood had  been  blackened  forever. 

But  he  must  search  the  thing  to  the  bottom.  He 
turned  and  looked  at  John,  who  was  watching  him,  with 
his  big  mouth  and  his  big  light  eyes  wide  open,  with  doubt 
and  trouble. 

"  You  may  go,  John.  You  didn't  act  a  brave,  manly 
part;  but  your  cowardice,  which  made  you  too  easy  a  tool 
of  others,  seems  about  all  that  lies  at  your  door.  Would 
to  God  it  were  no  worse  with  them  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  Master  Duke  ;  "  the  coarse,  bronze  face 
clearing  up.  "  It's  plagued  me  ever  since,  at  times ;  and 
I  feel  easier  now  you  know  it  all,  if  I  lose  my  place." 

But  John  did  not  fear  that  now. 

At  last  Duke  went  up  to  the  house.  He  had  not  met 
any  of  his  family  since  his  return,  having  found  Mrs. 
Walbridge  and  her  daughters  out  for  the  'day  when  he 
reached  home  in  the  morning.  He  crept  up  to  his  room, 
threw  himself  down  on  the  lounge,  and  tried  to  see  the 
way  before  him. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  355 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  HUM  of  voices,  a  storm  of  knocks  at  the  door,  and 
Duke  Walbridge  lifted  himself  up.  It  was  quite  dark  in 
his  room  by  this  time,  and  he  perceived  that  he  'had  been 
asleep  for  several  hours.  It  was  dreadfully  unromantic 
at  such  a  crisis  of  his  fate  ;  but  worn-out  nature  would  at 
last  assert  her  rights.  And  though  Duke  Walbridge  had 
thrown  himself  on  the  lounge,  conscious  that  the  present 
was  the  most  momentous  period  of  his  life,  and  that  on  the 
course  which  his  own  brain  should  shape  and  his  own 
will  execute,  depended  all  his  future,  —  its  weal  or  woe, 
—  conscious  of  all  this,  he  had  turned  over  and  gone  to 
sleep,  like  any  tired  animal. 

Still,  that  slumber  had  done  for  him  at  this  crisis  what 
no  profound  thoughts  could ;  it  had  cleared  his  brain  and 
steadied  his  nerves. 

Meanwhile,  his  family,  returning  home,  had  learned 
with  immense  surprise  of  the  young  man's  arrival,  and 
his  eager  sisters  made  an  assault  in  a  body  on  his  door, 
and  his  mother  waited  below,  impatient  as  her  girls  to  greet 
her  boy,  —  only,  recalling  some  facts,  she  felt  uneasy  about 
meeting  his  eyes. 

"  Come  in  !  "  shouted  Duke,  as  soon  as  he  was  fairly 


356  .         THE  HOLLANDS. 

awake  and  took  in  the  circumstances ;  and  the  door  burst 
open,  and  the  girls  bounded  toward  their  brother,  whom 
they  had  not  seen  for  a  half  a  year. 

An  uproarious  hugging  and  welcoming  followed. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  this  love  was  genuine  which 
welcomed  the  young  man  back  to^is  home.  They  called 
him  "  Bear,"  and  "  old  Bluebeard,"  and  all  the  old  house- 
hold names,  as  they  clung  about  him,  and  told  him  that 
he  had  grown  brown  as  an  Indian  and  fat  as  an  Esquimau ; 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  laughter  and  chatter  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge  snowed  herself  at  the  door. 

"  I  saw  that  I  must  come  to  you,  my  boy.  Your  get- 
ting away  from  this  rabble,  for  the  present,  was  hopeless." 
And  the  others  made  way  for  her,  and  she  put  her  arms 
right  around  the  big  fellow,  and  kissed  him  all  over  his 
face,  telling  him  "  how  good  it  seemed ;  how  glad  she  was 
to  have  him  home  again —  her  boy."  And  the  tears  were 
in  her  eyes. 

She  was  his  mother,  —  the  woman  that,  next  to  one 
other,  his  heart  held  dearest  on  earth.  Duke  forgot  all 
the  bitter  anguish  with  which  his  thoughts  had  surged 
against  her  that  day,  as  he  put  his  arm  around  her  and 
returned  her  kisses.  This  was  the  mother-heart  against 
which  his  boyhood  had  leaned  ;  surely  it  would  not  be 
leagued  against  him,  —  it  could  not  have  sought  to  stab 
him  to  the  death. 

These  faces  of  his  sisters  about  him,  flushed  with  eager 
joy  at  his  return,  could  these  ever  have  combined  to  do 
him  a  lifelong  deceit  and  wrong  ?  In  the  midst  of  them 
once  more,  with  the  family  love  tugging  at  his  heart, 


THE  HOLLANDS.  357 

Duke  Walbridge  began  to  doubt  even  what  Mrs.  Kent  had 
told  him. 

"  Why,  there's  pa !  "  suddenly  shouted  Kate. 

Sure  enough  !  There  that  personage  stood  in  the 
door,  having  just  returned  home  and  learned  of  his  son's 
arrival. 

"  I  thought  I  had  as  good  a  right  here  as  the  rest  of 
'em,  Duke,"  coming  forward.  And  the  two  wrung  each 
other's  hands. 

"  Now  do  just  see  those  men,"  cried  Eva,  "  shaking 
hands  as  though  they  were  the  merest  acquaintances ! 
Men  are  the  oddest  creatures ! " 

"  Well,  what  is  one  to  do?  "  laughed  her  father,  who, 
there  was  no  doubt,  felt  quite  as  pleased  as  the  rest  to 
have  his  son  home  again.  "It's  well  to  have  somebody 
amongst  such  a  tribe  of  madcap  girls,  with  enough  of  his 
senses  left  to  keep  the  house  from  turning  straight  into 
bedlam." 

"  Well,  you  might  at  least  kiss  each  other,"  stoutly  re- 
joined the  youngest  daughter. 

"  No  objections  to  that.  'Tisn't  the  first  time,  Duke," 
replied  the  father ;  and  the  two,  to  the  infinite  amusement 
of  the  others,  performed  that  function,  as  well  as  the 
grizzled  beard  and  the  brown  one  permitted. 

"  Eva  !  Eva  !  "  mildly  admonished  the  mother,  as  that 
young  girl  executed  a  gymnastic  feat,  as  much  resembling 
a  summersault  as  anything  else. 

"Well,  mamma,  I  can't  help  it.  Indeed,  you  must 
excuse  me,  but  I  am  so  glad  because  Duke  has  returned 
home."  And  again  she  was  kissing  him,  and  telling  him 


358  THE  HOLLANDS. 

he  bad  grown  such  a  bronze  old  Hercules  off  there  in  the 
territories. 

In  due  time  the  family  went  down  to  dinner.  Mrs. 
Walbridge,  wishing  that  her  eldest  daughter  was  at  home 
at  this  juncture,  and  uncertain  whether  his  father's  wishes 
or  his  friend's  death  had  been  the  impelling  motive  of 
Duke's  return,  did  not  allude  to  Ross  Holland. 

The  father,  straightforward  and  practical,  blundered 
right  into  the  matter. 

"  Horrible  thing,  — loss  of  that  steamer,  Duke  ;  aw- 
ful pity,  to  think  of  that  brave  young  fellow's  going  down 
in  that  way  !  Felt  sorry  enough  for  you,  when  I  heard 
it." 

"It  was  the  heaviest  blow  I  ever  had  in  my  life,  sir. 
I  don't  like  to  talk  much  about  it  now ;  but  you  know  he 
was  my  dearest  friend." 

"  Yes,  I  know  —  pity  !  pity.!  "  repeated  his  father. 

"  It  seemed  almost  like  losing  somebody  right  out  of 
our  own  family,"  put  in  Eva.  "And  then  poor  Miss 
Jessamine,  — it's  almost  killed  her." 

"  I  know  it  has,"  answered  Duke,  shortly,  as  one  does, 
when  words  hurt. 

"  How  do  you  know,  Duke  ?  "  continued  Eva,  and  there 
was  silence  at  the  table. 

"  Because  I  saw  her  this  afternoon." 

"  You  did,  —  you  saw  Miss  Holland  ?  "  continued  the 
girl,  and  everybody  listened. 

A  little  start  on  his  mother's  side  —  a  little  swift  glance 

o 

went  up  between  her  and  Gertrude.  Duke  did  not  seem 
to  be  looking,  but  he  saw  for  all  that. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  359 

"  Yes;  I  went  directly  to  the  Kents.  I  suppose  you 
all  knew  I  would  do  that.  I  saw  Miss  Holland  only  a 
few  moments,  long  enough  to  perceive,  however,  what 
work  the  last  few  weeks  have  made  with  her." 

"  Oh,  it  was  dreadful !  "  continued  the  girl.  "I  thought 
it  must  certainly  kill  her  at  first.  I'm  afraid  it  will  yet." 

Mrs.  "Walbridge  breathed  freer.  It  was  evident  that 
nothing  had  transpired  in  the  interview  betwixt  her  son 
and  Miss  Holland,  which  could  give  her  any  uneasiness, 
and  his  father's  business  would  make  it  necessary  for  Duke 
to  return  to  New  York  in  a  few  days.  To  do  the  woman 
justice,  too,  she  had  undergone  some  keenly  remorseful 
pangs,  which  were  quite  a  new  experience  with  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge,  and  which  made  her  just  now  think  less  of  any 
intrigue  than  of  Jessamine  Holland's  sorrow. 

"We  all  pitied  her  from  our  hearts,  Duke  —  poor 
child !  We  all  pitied  you,  too,  knowing  how  you  would 
feel!" 

"  Yes,  mother  —  girls,  only  don't  talk  about  it  now." 

Of  course  no  more  was  said,  but  they  did  not  rally  into 
their  old  spirits,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  shadow  of 
Ross '  death  fell  around  that  supper-table. 

"Gertrude,"  said  Duke,  during  the  evening,  "come 
and  take  a  little  walk  in  the  hall  with  me." 

That  promenade  was  an  old  habit  of  his.  Nobody 
thought  anything  strange  of  the  invitation.  Gertrude 
accepted  her  brother's  arm  with  alacrity. 

"  Why  didn't  you  ask  me  too  ?  "  inquired  Eva,  betwixt 
a  pout  and  a  smile. 

"  Because  your  turn  is  coming  a  little  later,  Pussy." 


360  THE  HOLLANDS. 

For  a  while,  the  brother  and  sister  paced  back  and  forth, 
talking  over  events  that  had  happened  to  both  during  his 
absence.  If  each  was  a  little  grave,  that  was  natural 
enough  after  the  talk  about  Duke's  friend. 

At  the  end  of  the  hall  there  was  a  small  side-room, 
hardly  larger  than  an  alcove ;  a  quiet  place,  with  no  especial 
use,  where  books  and  flowers  were  always  scattered  about, 
and  where  anybody  was  secure  from  interruption.  Duke 
drew  his  sister  in  here;  placed  her  in  an  arm-chair, 
where  the  light  shone  full  upon  her  face.  He  sat  down 
on  a  divan  near  her. 

11  Gertrude," —  leaning  his -head  on  his  hand,  and  speak- 
ing very  low  and  deliberately,  — "  did  you  ever  give  Jessa- 
mine Holland  any  reason  to  suppose  that  an  engagement 
existed  between  Margaret  Wheatley  and  myself?  " 

Gertrude  started,  and  stared  at  her  brother  as  though 
a  poniard  had  transfixed  her ;  her  lips  paled.  "What  do 
you  know  —  who  has  been  telling  you  any  thing  ?"  she 
stammered. 

"No  matter  about  that  now;  I  am  asking  what  you 
know,  and,  Gertrude,  I  must  have  the  truth ; "  his  jaw 
settling  grimly  now.  Gertrude's  first  start  had  betrayed 
her.  Edith  would  have  acted  the  part  better. 

"I  —  I  don't  want  to  say  anything  about  it  —  I  wish 
you  would  not  ask  me,  Duke ;  "  her  face  getting  paler. 

"  Gertrude  Walbridge,  do  you  think  I  am  a  fool,  to  be 
put  off  in  that  fashion?  It  is  my  right  to  ask  you. 
Answer  my  question  !  " 

His  face,  his  voice,  fairly  frightened  her.  She  still 
stammered,  and  tried  to  prevaricate ;  but  there  her  brother 


THE  HOLLANDS.  361 

stood,  grim  as  fate,  and  with  that  look  which  it  was  hope- 
less to  defy.  At  last  she  broke  out,  ' '  I  never  told  Jes- 
samine Holland  that  you  were  engaged  to  Margaret 
Wheatley," — which  you  will  remember  was  the  truth, 
reader. 

' '  Never  told  her  so,  Gertrude  ?  Did  you  ever  know 
of  anybody  else  who  said  this ;  and  did  you  sit  quietly 
by  and  not  lift  your  voice  te  contradict  so  absolute  a 
lie?" 

"I  couldn't  help  it,  Duke.  There  were  reasons;" 
growing  white  and  red.  by  turns. 

"  Reasons  for  such  a  foul  deception  as  that !  Again, 
do  you  take  me  for  a  fool,  Gertrude  Walbridge  ?  " 

The  blaze  in  his  eyes  made  her  tremble.  Poor  Ger- 
trude !  The  vf  hole  affair  wore  such  a  different  aspect 
now,  as  she  sat  there  alone  face  to  face  with  her  brother, 
from  the  one  it  had  under  Edith's  soft  handling,  which 
made  the  younger  girl  believe,  for  the  time,  that  the 
deception  was  justifiable.  If  her  elder  sister  was  there, 
she  would  face  Duke  out.  Gertrude  made  a  faint  at- 
tempt at  Edith's  old  sophistries. 

' '  We  always  hoped  and  expected  you  and  Margaret 
would  be  engaged  to  each  other.  You  knew  she  liked 
you,  and,  under  the  circumstances,  it  seemed  almost  your 
duty  to  have  her." 

"  As  for  my  duty,  I  am  the  one  to  decide  that.  You 
knew,  for  I  had  told  you  so,  that  I  had  no  thought  of 
ever  asking  her  to  be  my  wife,  and  do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  now  that  my  conscience,  my  honor,  are  not  unsoiled ; 
that  I  ever  gave  Margaret  Wheatley  to  suspect,  by 

31 


362  THE  HOLLANDS. 

word  or  act  of  mine,  that  I  could  be  more  to  her  than  I 
frankly  avowed  to  you  all?" 

Gertrude  was  struck  dumb.  If  Edith  were  only 
there  !  She  lost  all  self-possession. 

"  I  will  go  straight  to  mamma  with  all  this.  I  will 
not  answer  another  of  your  questions,  Duke,"  she  cried, 
and,  springing  up,  rushed  toward  the  door. 

A  hand  of  iron  griped  the  girl,  and  brought  her  back 
and  set  her  down  helplessly  in  the  chair.  She  burst 
into  tears,  half  of  fright,  half  of  anger. 

Tears  from  a  woman  always  melted  Duke.  They 
touched  him  now ;  but,  for  all  that,  he  was  resolute. 
He  sat  down  by  Gertrude's  side,  and  brought  all  his  per- 
suasiveness, and  all  the  magnetism  of  his  will,  to  bear 
on  her.  She  was  afraid  both  of  her  mother  and  of 
Edith ;  but  her  brother  proved  to  her  that  ha  was  sub- 
stantially acquainted  with  the  facts. 

At  last  the  whole  came  out,  dragged  from  most  un- 
willing lips,  it  is  true ;  but  Duke  did  not  leave  Gertrude 
until  she  related  all  that  Edith  had  said  during  that 
memorable  ride  with  Miss  Holland,  and  the  passive  share 
which  she  herself  had  borne  in  the  intrigue. 

Duke,  although  inexpressibly  shocked,  managed  to 
control  himself.  It  was  easy  enough  to  see  that  Ger- 
trude had  been  overruled  by  a  stronger  will  than  her 
own,  and  that  her  part  was  altogether  secondary  in  the 
affair.  It  was  a  great  deal,  too,  to  find  out,  as  he  did, 
during  the  conversation,  what  sort  of  excuse  and  justifi- 
cation his  sisters  could  make  to  themselves  foi  a  plot  so 
nefarious  that  Duke  was  almost  stunned  with  horror 


THE  HOLLANDS.  863 

when  he  thought  that  it  had  been  concocted  and  executed 
in  the  bosom  of  his  own  family. 

He  knew  then  how  men  and  women  feel  when  they 
learn  first  that  some  awful  crime  lies  on  the  soul  of  one 
whom  they  have  loved  and  cherished  more  than  their 
own  lives.  Gertrude  had  made  a  clean  breast  of  all  she 
knew ;  and  it  was  clear,  from  her  reply  to  some  guarded 
questions  about  a  letter  of  his  to  Miss  Holland,  that 
Gertrude,  at  least,  knew  nothing  about  one. 

' '  What  letter,  Duke  ?  I  never  heard  of  one ;  neither, 
I  am  sure,  did  Edith." 

He  was  glad  enough  to  divert  her  thoughts  from  that 
topic. 

"  And  our  mother  knew  and  countenanced  ajl  that 
Edith  did?  She  was  willing  —  she  desired  Miss  Hol- 
land to  believe  that  lie  ?  " 

A  slow  amazement  and  pain  in  his  voice,  that  hurt 
'Gertrude.  She  was  naturally  anxious  ,to  justify  her 
mother. 

"  Mamma  did  not  expect  Edith  would  go  so  far,  and 
was  truly  unhappy  about  it,  especially  since  Miss  Hol- 
land had  her  great  trouble ;  but  you  know  how  fond  she 
always  was  of  Margaret,  and  how  she  had  set  her  heart 
on  your  coming  together." 

Duke  would  not  say  it  to  the  daughter  of  her  mother, 
but  the  thought  flashed  sternly  across  him  :  "  She  had 
set  her  heart  on  the  banker's  half  million  !  "  He  knew, 
and  perhaps,  in  her  heart,  Gertrude  did. 

"Now  I  have  told  you  all,  and  you  will  forgive  me, 
Duke?"  coming  back  to  him  after  she  had  started  to 


364  THE  HOLLANDS. 

leave  the  room,  for  the  blaze  had  gone  down  in  his  eyes, 
and  there  was  something  in  his  look  which  troubled  her. 

Of  course  there  could  be  but  one  answer  to  that ;  but 
there  was  something  in  the  way  in  which  he  kissed  her, 
which  hurt  Gertrude  more  than  the  look,  and  made  her 
feel  that  her  brother's  faith  in  her  had  had  a  terrible 
shock.  With  this  feeling  she  burst  into  her  mother's 
room.  "  0  mamma,  Duke  has  found  out  all  about 
that  afiair  of  Miss  Holland's.  Somebody  has  told  him ; 
and  I  have  had  the  most  dreadful  time  downstairs  for 
the  last  hour;  he  would  not  let  me  go  until  I  had 
told  all." 

'Mrs.    Walbridge  was   thunderstruck.      She   tried  to 
speak,  %but  her  limbs  shook  and  her  face  was  white. 

"Why  did  you  not  come  to  me  at  once,  Gertrude?" 
she  managed  to  say. 

"  I  tried  to ;  but  there  was  no  getting  away  from  him, 
mamma."  And  then,  looking  up,  they  saw  Duke  at  the 
door. 

"  Gertrude,  I  must  see  mamma  all  alone  now." 

And  the  girl  went  out,  and  the  mother  and  the  son 
were  alone  together. 

It  was  the  most  awful  hour  of  Mrs.  Walbridge' s. life. 
Its  anguish  and  shame  will  haunt  her  memory  to  the  day 
of  her  death.  She  stood  face  to  face  with  her  sin,  and 
face  to  face  with  her  son,  and  had  to  own  the  deception 
she  had  countenanced,  the  subterfuge  she  had  connived 
at.  This  woman,  whose  life  had  been  built  on  conven- 
tionalities and  respectabilities,  felt  the  foundations  break- 
ing up  beneath  her.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Mrs. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  365 

Walbridge  lost  faith  in  herself.  Then,  too,  the  humilia- 
tion was  doubly  keen  and  bitter,  because  it  came  to  her 
through  the  one  being  w4iom  she  loved  a  little  better 
than  anything  on  earth ;  whose  love  and  reverence,  too, 
were  a  little  dearer  to  her  heart  than  that  of  any  other, 
though  it  were  her  husband  or  her  daughters. 

And  now  Duke  must  learn  that  his  faith  in  her  had 
been  betrayed,  that  his  own  mother  had  deceived  him, 
and  helped  him  to  believe  a  lie,  —  a  lie,  too,  which  must 
work  disappointment  and  mistake  for  all  his  future. 
This  was  the  truth  that  went  down  into  the  core  of  the 
woman's  love  and  pride. 

Edith  was  not  there  to  aid  her  mother,  and  Mrs.  Wai- 
bridge  was  too  cruelly  agitated  and  perplexed  to  attempt 
many  subterfuges.  The  whole  affair,  in  which  she  had 
borne  a  conspicuous,  if  a  somewhat  passive,  part,  took  to 
her  now  some  new  complexion  and  proportions. 

Yet,  as  Duke  had  dealt  kindly  with  his  sister,  so  he 
did  with  his  mother ;  more  tenderly,  even,  because  he 
pitied  her  more.  Still,  for  all  that,  he  was  resolute  to 
sift  the  matter  to  the  bottom.  It  is  true, 'Mrs.  Wal-^ 
bridge  made  feeble  attempts  to  assert  her  dignity,  to 
maintain  that  her  relations  to  her  son  shielded  her  from 
the  duty  of  replying  to  his  questions. 

"You  forget,  Duke,  that  I  am  your  mother;  you 
question  me  as  though  I  were  some  witness  at  the  bar, 
whom  you  had  a  right  to  interrogate  without  mercy," 
she  sobbed,  half  hysterical,  half  indignant. 

"No,  mother,  it  is  precisely  because  you  are  my 
mother  that  I  came  to  you,  before  going  to  any  other 


366  THE  HOLLANDS. 

source,  to  know  the  whole  truth.     Do  not  compel  me  to 
seek  it  elsewhere.     Let  me  have  it  from  your  own  lips." 

And  at  last  he  drew  it  •  all  out.  Mrs.  Walbridge 
would  have  been  glad  to  shield  Edith,  but  the  facts  were 
against  her. 

The  night  wore  on.  Duke  walked  the  room,  his  face 
livid,  his  mother  in  her  chair,  white  as  himself,  as  the 
ugly  truths  one  by  one  dragged  themselves  up  to  the 
light.  The  search  for  his  letter,  the  reading  it,  the  plot 
to  destroy  it,  after  substituting  another  in  its  stead,  with 
the  dreadful  lie  on  top  of  all,  so  completely  horrified  the 
young  man,  that  his  wrath  was  held  in  check. 

"Edith  did  not  mean  to  wrong  you,  Duke;  she  had 
your  best  happiness  in  view ;  but  she,  with  the  rest  of 
us,  was  driven  frantic  by  the  thought  that,  after  all 
our  cherished  plans  and  hopes,  we  were  to  lose  Margaret, 
whom  we  had  grown  to  regard  as  our  daughter  and  sister. 
It  was  not,  either,  that  we  disliked  Miss  Holland.  *  And 
since  the  poor  girl's  trouble  came  upon  her,  I  have  been 
a  wretched  woman,  thinking  of  all  these  miserable  things. 
We  were  bewildered  by  the  suddenness  of  our  discovery 
of  your  feelings,  and  driven  to  desperate  means  to  pre- 
vent a  consummation  of  our  worst  fears.  It  seemed,  too, 
at  the  time,  Duke,  that  we  were  doing  what  was  for  your ' 
own  best  good." 

' '  My  best  good  !  To  sacrifice  my  life  in  that  way  — 
to  separate  me  by  so  cruel  a  deception  from  the  woman  I 
loved,  and  marry  me  to  one  whom  I  did  not !  "  a  strife 
between  indignation  and  pain  in  his  voice. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  murmured  something  about  Margaret. 


•  THE  HOLLANDS.  367 

Duke  stopped  before  her.  "  Mother,  be  frank  with 
your  own  soul.  It  is  not  Margaret,  but  Margaret's 
money,  that  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  this  wrong  and 
misery." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  dumb.  At  another  time  she 
would  have  denied  this,  but  at  that  moment  the  truth 
struck  home.  Remorse  and  pain  had  made  her  con- 
science sensitive.  She  did  not  answer  one  word.  She 
only  sobbed  to  herself.  -And  again  Duke  remembered 
she  was  his  mother,  and  pitied  her. 

At  -last,  but  that  was  long  after  midnight,  there  was 
no  more  to  tell.  How  nearly  the  plot  had  succeeded, 
Duke  Walbridge  of  all  the  world  only  knew.  Sudden 
heats  of  anger  had  come  upon  him,  and  shaken  or  hard- 
ened his  voice ;  then  pity  had  melted  him  as  he  looked 
at  his  mother ;  then  horror  at  the  cruel  wrong  which 
would  have  blighted  his  life. 

When  it  was  all  over,  he  sat  still  a  while,  and  then  he 
rose  up  and  went  over  to  his  mother,  and  the  tears  were 
in  his  eyes,  and  his  voice  sounded  unutterably  mournful : 
"Mother,  if  I  have  forgotten  at  any  time  to-night  the 
respect  which  I  owe  you,  forgive  me.  It  has  been  very 
hard  to  bear,  but  hardest  of  all  has  been  the  thought  that 
the  mother,  whom  I  loved  and  trusted  as  I  think  few  sons 
have  ever  done,  has  deceived  and  betrayed  her  boy,  -- 
could  have  so  easily  sacrificed  the  happiness  of  his  life ; 
it  is  very  hard  to  believe  it  yet.  The  pain  is  fresh  now. 
I  shall  try  to  forgive  it  —  but  —  but  we  will  not  say  any 
more  to-night." 

Mrs.  Walbridge  writhed  a  moment,   and    buried  her 


368  THE  HOLLANDS.  • 

face  in  her  hands.     The  gentle,  cruel  words  wounded  so 
deeply,  because  of  their  truth. 

In  her  humiliation,  the  woman  wished  she  could  have 
died  and  been  buried  before  she  had  driven  her  son  to 
speak  thus  to  her.  But  she  did  not  reply  ;  she  only  sobbed 
in  her  chair.  And  Duke  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  laid 
her  tenderly  on  the  lounge,  and  kissed  her,  and  left  her. 


There  was  no  sleep  for  Duke  that  night.  I  think  there 
was  as  little  for  his  mother.  Sometimes  a  wild  joy 
flashed  through  him  as  he  remembered  that  Jessamine 
Holland  had  never  heard  of  his  letter ;  that  the  prospect 
of  his  suit  was  as  fair  now,  as  though  that  had  never  been 
written ! 

But  his  joy  even  came  and  went  in  swift,  hot  throbs. 
Everything  seemed  unreal  to  him  after  what  he  had  learned 
to-night ;  underneath  all,  a  passion  of  wrath  against  that 
elder  sister  who  had  been  the  prime  mover  in  the  whole 
intrigue.  Her  brain  had  plotted,  and  her  arts  had 
achieved,  the  whole.  For  his  mother  and  Gertrude  there 
was  much  to  pity  and  excuse ;  but  for  Edith,  could  he 
ever  feel  again  that  she  was  his  sister  ?  He  saw  her  steal- 
ing into  his  room,  and  reading  his  letter ;  he  saw  her 
wheedling  it  out  of  the  coachman,  and  quietly  transferring 
it  to  the  table ;  a  little  later  he  saw  her  fair,  exultant  face 
bending  over  the  flames  where  she  had  thrown  it.  He 
closed  his  eyes  with  a  sudden  loathing.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  never  wanted  to  look  on  that  face  again  to  the  day 
of  his  death  ! 


THE  HOLLANDS.  .     869 

So  the  cold  dawn  at  last  came  into  his  room,  and  again 
he  fell  into  a  heavy  slumber  that  lasted  for  hours. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  was  not  at  breakfast  that  morning. 

o  o 

She  had  had  a  miserable,  nervous  night,  her  husband  said, 
and  enjoined  upon  his  daughters  not  to  "bother  their 
mother  with  any  of  their  nonsense  that  day." 

It  was  quite  evident  that  the  gentleman  had  not  the 
remotest  suspicion  of  all  that  had  transpired  the  night 
before.  Mason  Walbridge's  acuteness  lay  in  other  direc- 
tions. 

After  breakfast  Duke  went  up  to  his  mother's  room. 
She  had  just  arisen,  and  the  girl  had  brought  in  a  letter 
with  her  mistress'  coffee. 

Duke  saw  at  once  that  his  mother  was  excited.  She 
soon  placed  the  letter  in  his  hands.  It  proved  to  be  one 
from  Mrs.  Ashburn,  and  it  announced  her  niece's  engage- 
ment to  a  young  man,  of  whom  Margaret  had  sometimes 
, spoken  at  their  house,  as  a  great  favorite  in  her  set ; 
handsome,  accomplished,  the  very  beau-ideal  of  an  elegant, 
courtly  gentleman.  Mrs.  Ashburn  had  quite  opened  her 
heart  to  her  old  friend.  "  I  had  hoped,  dear  Hester," 
she  wrote,  "  that  your  boy  and  my  girl  would  unite  our 
families  in  one  ;  but  things  do  not  usually  turn  out  in  this 
life  after  our  pet  hopes  and  fancies ;  I  learned  that  long 
ago.  Margaret  seems  very  happy  in  her  choice,  and  her 
father  is  satisfied.  The  young  man  himself  has  all  those 
qualities  which  would  be  likely,  to  win  the  favor  of  a 
woman,  as  he  is  handsome,  cultivated,  agreeable,  and  his 
wealth,  family,  and  position,  are  all  we  could  desire  for 
our  darling." 


370  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Duke  laid  down  the  letter,  and  the  mother  and  son 
looked  at  each 'other. 

"  It  is  best  as  it  is,  Duke,"  she  said.  "  Your  way  is 
open  now,  and  as  Jessamine  Holland  is  your  choice,  go 
and  win  her." 

"Ah,  mother,  I  should  like  to  hear  you  say  it  in  a 
different  tone  from  that !  " 

"  Sons  are  not  apt  to  consult  their  mothers  in  choosing 
their  wives ;  but  I  will  be  just  at  last,  Duke.  I  know  of 
no  woman  who  is  so  well  suited  to  you  ;  none,  certainly, 
whom  I  believe  more  worthy  to  be  your  wife  than  the  one 
you  have  chosen.  I  frankly  avow  that  my  prejudices 
have  stood  in  the  way  of  any  very  cordial  feeling  toward 
her  on  my  part ;  still,  that  was  not  Miss  Holland's  fault 
—  and  —  and"  — a  flush  stole  into  the  lady's  cheeks  — 
"  I  shoulfl  prefer  that  my  future  daughter-in-law  should 
not  be  acquainted  with  some  facts,  which  must  of  neces- 
sity be  explained  to  her.  That  again  is  not  her  fault, 
Duke.  You  will  at. least  remember,  however  deeply  you 
may  feel  for  her  wrongs,  that  it  is  your  mother  and 
sisters  whom  you  are  to  accuse." 

Duke  comprehended  his  mother's  feeling,  and  took  in  all 
the  pain  of  his  own  position.  It  was  a  humiliation  as  keen 
as  possible  for  the  proud  woman,  to  reflect  that  her  son 
could  not  press  his  suit  until  the  maiden  of  his  wooing 
had  first  learned  how  darkly  his  family  had  plotted  against 
both.  ' 

"  Mother,  I  think  you  know  you  can  trust  me,  and  — 
and  Jessamine  Holland  does  not  know  the  worst.  She 
never  will." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  371 

Mrs.  Walbridge  understood  that  he  alluded  to  the  letter 
which  had  been  destroyed.  Had  the  girl  known  that,  and 
Mrs.  Walbridge's  share  in  its  destruction,  it  seemed  to 
that  lady  she  could  never  have  looked  her  in  the  face  — 
not  even  as  Duke's  wife. 

Afterward  she  went  on  to  say,  that,  as  things  had  turned 
out,  she  was  glad  to  hear  of  Margaret's  engagement.  % 

She  little  guessed  what  share  her  son  had  borne  in  pro- 
moting that,  and  no  human  being  ever  suspected  that  only 
one  little  moment  had  stood  between  Duke  Walbridge's 
asking  Margaret  Wheatley  to  be  his  wife. 


372  THE    HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  following  day,  Duke  Walbridge  went  over  to  the 
Rents  again.  A  night  and  a  day  had  calmed  and  strength- 
ened him.  If  the  hopes  did  not  sing  about  his  heart  like 
flocks  of  spring-birds,  as  they  had  sung  one  day  long  ago, 
it  was  not  strange.  Tie  blackness  of  death  had  fallen 
upon  Jessamine  Holland  since  that  time,  and  for  himself 
he  had  passed  through  such  awful  shocks  of  knowledge, 
and  loss,  and  grief,  that  the  old,  high  bounding  heart  of 
love  was  slower  now. 

Duke  Walbridge  was  not  going  over  to  the  Kents  with 
any  purpose  beyond  that  of  making  a  friendly  call  on  Miss 
Holland.  He  found  the  family  out,  Mrs.  Kent  and  Mrs. 
Bray  having  gone  to  drive,  and  Jessamine  received  him 
by  herself,  —  a  little  smile  flickering  out  of  her  lips  and 
eyes  as  she  welcomed  him,  that  was  like  the  old  Jessamine 
Holland,  only  the  smile  had  such  a  background  of 
sadness. 

"To-morrow,"  she  said,  with  considerable  animation, 
"  they  have  promised  that  I  shall  accompany  them  in  their 
drive.  It  is  such  a  very  long  time  since  I  was  last  out 
doors.  It  seems'as  though  it  must  be  years  when  I  look 
back." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  373 

Her  voice  faltering,  just  as  her  lips  did,  over  the  last 
words.  He  knew  what  she  was  thinking  of;  but  this 
morning  neither  spoke  of  Ross.  Their  hearts  were  too 
full  of  him. 

"  Your  friends  here,  Miss  Jessamine,  give  me  nothing 
to  do.  I  came  over  here,  intending  to  allure  you,  if  pos- 
sible, into  a  short  drive  with  me  to-morrow,  and  here,  as 
usual,  I  find  myself  anticipated." 

"You  are  all  very  good  to  me.  I  am  not  worth  so/ 
much  trouble,"  she  said,  sorrowfully,  to  herself,  as  those 
are  apt  to  feel  whom  some  terrible  blow  has  prostrated. 

Duke  Walbridge  did  not  reply.  He  had  been  wonder- 
•  ing  all  the  way,  over  to  the  Kents  wlltether  there  would 
ever  come  a  day  on  Avhich  he  should  be  able  to  tell  Jes- 
samine Holland  that  he  loved  her,  when  such  a  humiliating 
confession  must  form  the  preface  of  his  story.  What 
,  would  she,  the  high-souled,  true-hearted  girl  feel,  when 
she  came  to  know  that  foul  deceit  in  which  his  mother  had 
shared  ?  Would  not  the  scorn  in  those  bright,  sorrowful, 
rebuking  eyes,  make  his  lips  dumb  when  his  turn  came  to 
plead  his  own  cause  ?  But  as  he  looked  at  her  that  morn- 
ing, the  pale,  sweet  face,  with  its  loneliness,  its  youth,  its 
sorrow,  for  the  moment  swept  off  every  other  thought, 
and,  with  a  sudden  impulse,  not  stopping  to  take  counsel 
of  judgment  or  discretion,  Duke  said.  "  I  read  a  letter 
yesterday  morning,  which  contained  some  tidings  that 
very  much  surprised  me ;  I  think  they  would  you,  also, 
Miss  Holland." 

"  What  was  it,  —  pleasant  news?  "  She  had  come  to 
feel  that  all  sudden  news  must  be  sad. 


374  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"Yes;  on  the  whole,  I  suppose  engagements  usually 
are." 

"  I  suppose  so;  "  and  then  the  poor  child  remembered 
one  engagement  that  she  had  once  learned  suddenly,  and 
that  was  anything  else  but  "pleasant"  to  her. 

Perhaps  the  shadow  of  this  thought  drifted  into  her 
face,  for  fhe  young  man  hastened  to  say,  "This  letter 
was  from  Mrs.  Ashburn  to  my  mother,  and  announced  the 
engagement  of  her  niece,  Margaret  Wheatley,  with  one 
of  the  numerous  suitors  for  her  hand;  "  his  words  slow 
and  distinct,  watching  the  effect  of  every  one. 

Jessamine  Holland  started,  full  of  quick  life  now. 
Her  eyes  stared  and  strained  at  him ;  her  breath  came  in 
swift  pants.  "  How  thoroughly  they  had  deceived  her  !  " 
thought  Duke,  a  wave  of  indignation  rushing  over  his 
soul.  That  she  was  dreadfully  agitated,  and,  in  her 
present  weak  state,  scarcely  able  to  control  herself,  was 
evident  enough. 

11  Margaret  Wheatley  engaged?  "  she  said,  slowly,  put- 
ting her  hand  to  her  forehead.  "  I  thought  —  I  thought 
—  they  told  me  —  "  then  she  turned  and  lookecP  at  him, 
something  wild,  hunted,  appealing  in  her  look,  that  he 
could  not  bear. 

"I  know  what  they  told  you;"  his  voice  low  and 
shaken.  ' '  As  God  hears  me,  there  was  not  one  word  of 
truth  in  it  from  beginning  to  end,  Jessamine  Holland  !  " 

He  did  not  dare  to  look  in  her  face.  But  he  felt  her 
shake  all  over,  and  then  there  came  a  little  kind  of  choked, 
gasping  cry  from  her  lips  ;  very  low,  but  it  hurt  him  cruel- 
ly. Then  her  face  went  down  in  her  hands!*"  He  waited 


THE  HOLLANDS.  375 

a  moment  for  her  to  speak.  She  could  not  for  her  life ; 
and  at  last,  feeling  that  the  time  was  come,  and  still  with 
his  face  turned  away  from  her,  he  told  his  story,  —  how 
the  heart  of  his  family  had  long  been  set  upon  Margaret 
Wheatley,  and  he  —  stammering  there,  and  blushing  like 
a  bashful  girl ;  and  how,  at  last,  his  sister  Edith  —  God 
forgive  her,  for  it  seemed  as  though  her  brother  never 
could  —  had  devised  a  plot  to  utterly  deceive  Jessamine 
Holland,  and  dragged  her  younger  sister  into  the  passive 
part  which  she  had  taken  in  the  matter  ;  and  how  he  had, 
at  last,  through  Mrs.  Kent's  intimation,  unravelled  the 
whole  foul  thing,  with  what  amazement,  indignation,  and 
grief,  he  left  Jessamine  to  conceive. 

She  was  silent,  as  though  she  had  been  turned  to  stone, 
while  he  talked-;  but  he  knew  somehow  that  she  was  taking 
in  every  word ;  he  knew,  too,  that  such  a  story  must  be 
an  awful  shock  to  her  native  honor  ajid  truthfulness.  He 
wpuld  not  insult  these  by  trying  to  smooth  over  the  facts ; 
and  the  worst  she  would  never  know.  «There  was  his 
letter  to  her.  One  secret  Duke  Walbridge  must  hold 
from  Jessamine  Holland  to  the  day  of  his  death  —  hold  it 
for  his  mother's  sake  —  it  might  be  for  Edith's. 

She  sat  just  as  still  a  long  time  after  he  had  finished. 
At  last  he  looked  up  in  her  face.  It  was  such  a  changed 
one,  all  moved,  flushed,  quivering  with  life  and  warmth. 
He  was  a  lover  —  he  could  not  help  what  he  did  next. 
He  leaned  over  and  touched  her  hand.  "Jessamine," 
he  said,  "  are  you  glad,  or  sorry,  to  know  this?  " 

She  tried  to  speak ;  but,  if  any  words  came  to  her,  they 
choked  in  her  throat.  A  sudden  happiness  swelled  and 


376  THE  HOLLANDS. 

thrilled  at  her  heart,  the  blushes  quivered  into  her  face, 
she  looked  at  him  shyly,  and  a  smile,  her  own  little, 
childlike  smile,  brimming  with  joy  and  sweetness,  came 
and  nestled  about  her  mouth. 

The  sight  mastered  him.  He  leaned  over  the  hand  he 
held.  "  Jessamine,  you  must  understand  why  it  Avas  that 
my  sister  descended  to  take  all  this  sin  on  her  soul  — 
that  she  went;  with  this  dreadful  lie  on  her  lips,  to  the 
one  Woman  whom  she  thought  stood  betwixt  Margaret 
Wheatley  and  me." 

"  0  Duke  !  "  It  was  a  little,  deprecating  cry.  She 
did  not  know  what  she  said. 

More  than  that  low  cryVould  not  have  held  him  back 
now,,  with  his  soul  at  flood  tide. 

"  I  knew  that  you  could  not  fail  to  understand  what  I 
meant  that  last  morning  that  we  passed  together.  When 
I  came  over  to  see  you  a  day  later,  it  was  to  place  my 
fate  in  your  hands  ;  and  your  refusal  to  see  me  convinced 
me  that  you  ha/l  taken  that  most  delicate,  if  most  deadly, 
way  of  letting  me  know  that  my  suit  was  in  vain.  I  can- 
not talk  of  tKat  time ;  its  bitterness  only  taught  me  what 
you  had  become  to  me,  and  —  it  drove  me  out  West  'at 
last." 

"  0  Duke !  "  A  low  cry  like  the  other,  but  a  little 
tenderness  quivering  through  it. 

He  heard  it.  "Jessamine,  if  you  had  never  heard  that 
lie  of  Edith's,  and  I  had  come  and  asked  you  that  after- 
noon what  was  in  my  heart,  should  you  have  let  me  go 
away  as  I  did?  " 

A  little  sobbing  kind  of  sigh,  but  through  it  atreniulous 


THE  HOLLANDS.  377 

* 

whisper,  that  she  did  not  mean  to  speak,  but  it  breathed 
up  from  her  heart  to  her  lips. 

"  No,  Duke." 

Half  an  hour  later,  Mrs.  Kent  and  Mrs.  Bray  returned 
from  their  ride.  Was  that  the  face  they  had  left  behind? 
Was  that  the  white,  settled  thing  they  had  been  watching 
for  the  last  month,  fearing  that  the  life  was  fading  out  of 
it  ?  Now  a  very  morning  radiance  of  joy  possessed  it. 
The  life,  and  sparkle,  and  happiness,  that  shone  in  the 
quivering  smile,  in  the  shining  eyes,  seemed  like  a  fresh 
miracle. 

Hannah  Bray,  with  her  blunt,  honest  homeliness,  which 
at  this  time  served  better  than  anything  finer,  burst  right 
out  with,  "  What  has  happened  to  you,  my  child  ?  " 

And  Jessamine  —  you  must  remember  how  joy  as  well 
as  sorrow  strains  heart  ana  nerve,  and  the  one  came  for. 
her  close  on  the  other  —  burst  into  tears.  "lam  so 
happy,  so  happy!  "  she  sobbed. 

Then  the  two  women  looked  at  Duke,  and  understood. 

Mrs.  Bray,  the  worn  face  all  broken  up  with  feeling, 
burst  out,  "  Come,  young  man,  I  see  you've  had  her 
ear  to  yourself  quite  long  enough  this  morning.  You'd 
better  go  now,  and  leave  her  to  get  a  little  quiet.  I  know 
her  of  old,  and  about  how  much  she  can  stand." 

Duke  sprang  up  with  alacrity.  ' '  I  will  go  at  once  ; 
but  you  must  make  up  your  mind  that  I  have  some  rights 
now,  and  intend  to  assert  them  by  coming  very  soon 
again." 

Mrs.  Kent  met  him  in  the  hall.     He  grasped  both  her 

hands.      "0   my   friend,  how  shall  I  thank  you  for  what 

32 


378  THE  HOLLANDS. 

you  did  to  me  that  day  !  I  am  the  most  indebted,  as  I 
am  the  very  happiest  of  men  !  " 

"I  always  felt  there  was  something  wrong  at  the 
bottom,"  said  the  joyful  little  woman,  fairly  clapping  her 
hands.  "  I  wish  I  could  tell  you,  Mr.  Walbridge,  how 
sincereiy  glad  I  am  —  how  much  I  congratulate  you  !  ' ' 

They  went  into  the  parlor  together,  and  there  —  it  was 
the  lady's  right  to  know  —  he  had  to  tell  her  the  story  he 
had  told  her  friend.  It  was  a  second  humiliation ;  it 
dashed  somewhat  the  brimming  cup  of  his  joy. 

"  Duke,"  said  Jessamine,  timidly,  the  next  day,  when 
he  sat  by  her  side, — "  Duke,  there  is  one  question  I  want 
to  ask  you." 

Really,  I  do  not  like  to  write  the  reply.  It  was  a 
lover's,  and  might  not  look  so  well  on  paper  as"  some 
other  things,  even  if  they  were  not  a  whit  more  sensible. 
"  Did  your  mother  know  —  what  —  what  was  said  to  me 
that  day  in  our  ride  ?  ' ' 

He  bent  his  head,  as  reeds  by  rivers  do  when  sudden 
storms  of  wind  whirl  over  them.  She  was  half  sorry  she 
had  asked  him,  when  she  saw  his  pain  ;  but  he  had  to  tell 
the  truth,  softening  and  excusing  wherever  he  could,  and 
thinking  all  the  time  of  how  much  lay  behind. 

Then  Jessamine  Holland  spoke  like  herself.  "  Ah, 
Duke,  I  forgot  everything  else  yesterday,  in  the  great 
happiness  of  knowing  what  I  was  to  you ;  but  I  could  never 
enter  a  family  where  I  was  unwelcome  as  sister  and  daugh- 
ter. I  could  never  be  happy,  feeling  that  I  was  the 
stranger  who  had  brought  pain  and  disappointment  into 
their  midst." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  879 

Duke  tried  to  turn  it  off  with  a  jest.  "  Will  you  doom 
me  to  perpetual  old  bacherlorhood  ?  There  would  be  no 
hope  for  Margaret  and  me  now.  if  you  did  not  exist." 

There  was  no  denying  the  force  of  this  argument,  yet 
that  fact  did  not  lessen  the  repugnance  Avhich  Jessamine's 
pride  and  self-respect  both  felt  at  the  prospect  of  entering 
a  family  who  had  plotted  so  long  and  deeply  to  keep  her 
out  of  it.  She  knew,  too,  although  she  did  not  say  it, 
knew  just  as  well  as  Duke  did,  what  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  their  preference  for  Margaret  Wheatley. 

Duke  could  not  blame  her.  I  think,  in  his  secret  soul, 
he  honored  Jessamine  Holland  for  the  feeling  she  avowed. 
It  could  not  interfere  with  their  new-found  happiness, 
with  the  blissful  knowledge  that  they  two  loved  each 
other.  That  was  a  lifelong  truth,  before  which  the 
memory  of  all  sorrows  passed  away,  ' '  as  memories  of 
storms  that  go  down  beyond  horizons  of  summer  days." 

Even  the  thought  of  Ross  could  hardly  cross  with  a 
shadow  that  present  joy.  It  seemed  to  his  sister  that  his 
voice  came  to  her  out  of  the  dark  and  the  distance,  bidding 
her  be  happy  in  the  love  of  his  best  friend.  And  she  was, 
and  the  life  and  the  youth  came  back  to  her  face  once 
more,  and  the  spring-tides  into  her  soul. 

One  day  Mrs.  Walbridge  came  to  her  son,  and  said, 
"Duke,  I  see  that  it  has  prospered  with  you.  Tell  me 
all." 

He  had  waited  for  his  mother  to  speak  first.  And  now 
Duke  told  her  all,  even  of  Jessamine's  resolve  never  to 
force  herself  an  unwelcome  member  into  his  family. 

That  resolve  broke  down  the  last  prejudice  which  Mrs. 


380  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Walbridge  had  cherished  against  Jessamine  Holland. 
She  had  her  part  to  do  now,  and  she  did  it  well.  She 
rode  over  to  the  Kents,  and  she  took  Jessamine  Holland 
in  her  arms  and  kissed  her.  "  Come  to  us,  my  child,  for 
Duke's  sake,  and  so  we  shall  know  you  have  forgiven  us 
all;  and  that  will  be  much." 

The  ladies  parted  closer  friends  than  they  had  ever  been 
before.  One  night  had  made  a  great  difference  with  Mrs. 
Walbridge.  There  might  not  be  any  change  to  the  world, 
but  secretly  she  would  never  be  just  the  woman  she  had 
been  before  that  time. 

Edith  learned  first,  through  her  mother,  of  the  utter 
failure  of  her  chef  d'ceuvre  of  intrigue,  and  the  dreadful 
recoil  on  herself.  Whatever  she  felt,  the  front  she  carried 
was  worthy,  as  I  said,  the  women  of  the  Court  of  Cath- 
arine of  Medici,  the  pupil  of  Machiavel. 

"My  plot  has  utterly  miscarried,  and  I  accept  the 
facts,"  she  wrote.  "  Duke,  for  whose  sake  I  took  so  much 
pains,  will  probably  curse  me.  That  is  usually  the  way, 
when  people  go  too  far  to  serve  their  friends.  What  is  it 
Lady  Waldermar  says  :  — 

"  '  We  all  do  fail  and  lie, 
More  or  less  —  and  I'm  sorry  —  which  is  all 
Expected  from  us  when  we  fail  the  most, 
And  go  to  church  to  own  it.' 

"  Duke  will  have  his  country  lassie  now,  and  as  I  sup- 
pose Heaven  intended  them  for  each  other,  I  wish  him  joy 
of  her  ;  and  good  as  I  have  proved  myself  at  lying,  per- 
haps he  will  believe  me  when  I  say  I've  honestly  felt  sorry 
for  the  girl  sometimes,  since  she  lost  her  brother,  and 


THE  HOLLANDS.  381 

wished  I'd  not  tried  to  interfere  with  Providence,  even 
when  I  thought  half  a  million  of  dollars  hung  upon  a  few 
foolish  lies;  for  —  let  us  be  honest,  mamma  —  that  was 
really  at  the  bottom*  with  us  all.  Jessamine  Holland  is 
as  fit  a  wife  for  Duke  as  any  young  woman  could  possibly 
be  who  is  poor.  I  can  see  the  blackness  of  his  face  as  he 
reads  that;  but  sinners  such  as  he  holds  me  are  des- 
perate, and  a  few  words  more  or  less  make  no  difference." 
The  letter  closed  with  the  announcement  of  Edith's 
intention  to  accompany  a  party  of  friends  to  Havana  to 
pass  the  winter.  She  drew  very  vivid  pictures  of  gaye- 
ties  and  splendors  to  come ;  but,  with  all  her  effrontery, 
the  girl  shrank  from  the  thought  of  meeting  the  face  of 
her  brother,  or  of  Jessamine  Holland,  for  a  while.  And 
her  mother's  approval  of  the  journey,  which  in  the  Wai- 
bridge  family  meant  that  of  most  of  the  others,  settled 
the  matter. 


382  THE  HOLLANDS. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A  COUPLE  of  weeks  had  passed.  One  morning  Duke 
Walbridge  sat  alone  in  his  father's  private  office,  think- 
ing the  thoughts  of  a  young  man,  whose  life  and  future 
are  no  longer  solely  his  own.  He  was  full  of  hope, 
strength,  ardor,  now;  of  dreams,  work,  and  help  for 
others.  The  moods  and  the  discords  seemed  to  have 
passed  out  of  his  life  in  these  last  weeks,  which  had 
brimmed  with  happiness  for  him,  for  Jessamine  also. 

Each  was  wise  enough  to  speak  little  of  what  was 
painful  in  the  past ;  but  the  present  joy  measured  for 
both  the  depth  of  the  old  anguish.  Once  or  twice,  in 
some  little  pause,  when  she  sat  by  his  side,  Jessamine 
had  caught  hold  of  Duke's  arm  with  a  sudden  movement 
of  terror :  "  0  Duke,  I  thought  once  I  had  lost  you,  — 
lost  you  forever  for  this  world  !  " 

Those  words  and  fyiat  movement  showed  him  all  she 
had  suffered ;  and  that  thought  always  hardened  his  heart 
toward  Edith,  toward  his  mother  even,  as  the  memory 
of  his  own  anguish  never  did. 

But,  even  though  some  shadows  must  tremble  among 
Jessamine's  joy,  still,  how  great  the  blessedness  was,  you 
had  only  to  look  into  her  face  to  know.  The  pale  pink 


THE  HOLLANDS.  383 

glow  had  come  to  her  rounded  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  shone 
out  of  their  old,  bright  depths. 

As  for  Mrs.  Kent,  she  was  as  happy  as  an  impulsive, 
warm-hearted,  sympathetic  young  matron  could  possibly 
be  over  the  happiness  of  her  dearest  friend.  And  Mrs. 
Bray  had  won  a  promise  from  Duke  to  bring  Jessamine 
up  to  her  old  home  for  at  least  a  week  next  summer,  and 
returned  herself,  the  true,  warm  heart,  under  the  homely 
face,  content  for  her  foster-child. 

At  his  own  home  everything  went  smoothly.  Eva 
was  fairly  wild  with  joy  over  the  prospect  of  having 
Jessamine  Holland  for  a  sister-in-law,  and,  hanging 
about  her  brother  as  usual,  said,  ' '  I  always  knew  she 
was  the  right  one  for  you,  Duke.  Oh,  I  am  so 
glad !  " 

As  for  Gertrude  and  Kate,  their  dislike  had  been 
merely  stimulated  by  others,  and  as  soon  as  Margaret 
Wheatley's  engagement  had  transpired,  the  girls,  who 
really  were"  attached  to  Jessamine  Holland,  were  quite 
willing  Duke  should  follow  his  own  tastes. 

So,  indeed,  was  his  father,  who  had  a  lurking  feel- 
ing that  his  son  had  been  badly  treated  by  the  banker's 
daughter,  and  endeavored  to  console  what  he  fancied 
must  be  his  wife's  keen  disappointment. 

"The  money  was  a  good  thing,  no  doubt,  my  dear, 
but  I  dare  say.  the  boy  is  well  quit  of  it.  I've  often  ob- 
served that  men  who  marry  a  fortune  seldom  get  much 
comfort  from  it." 

"  Mr.  Walbridge,"  said  his  wife,  wincing  under  this 
talk,  "I  am  sorry  to  find  that  you  think  me  governed 


384  THE  HOLLANDS. 

entirely  by  mercenary  motives.     If  our  son  is  happy,  I 
am  satisfied." 

There  was  an  astonishing  discrepancy  betwixt  this  talk 
and  some  that  Mr.  "Walbridge  had  listened  to  a  long  time 
ago  in  that  very  room.  He  was  silent,  however,  think- 
ing that  his  wife's  pride  and  affection  had  both  been 
wounded  by  Margaret's  conduct,  and  that  this  fact  had 
affected  the  change  in  her  sentiments.  So  little  did  the 
man  suspect  the  drama  that  had  gone  on  in  his  own 
household.  That  very  day  his  eldest  daughter  had  sailed 
for  Cuba,  — a  trip  that,  despite  all  her  mother's  influence, 
he  had  never  cordially  approved. 


"Walbridge!" 

Not  a  loud  voice,  just  behind  him,  as  Duke  sat  there 
at  his  father's  desk,  but  one  which  seemed  to  echo  away 
down  from  distant  slopes  of  the  years.  He  sprang  up 
and  turned  around.  There  the  speaker  stood,  a  rather 
stout,  youngish  man,  with  a  face  darkly  browned  by  for- 
eign suns,  a  thick  beard. 

Duke  stared,  and  for  the  moment  did  not  recognize  the 
stranger.  But,  as  the  latter  stretched  out  both  his  hands, 
some  strong  feeling  came  into  his  eyes. 

The  voice,  the  eyes,  flashed  over  Duke;  his  face 
turned  white  as  a  dying  man's ;  he  leaned  back  against 
the  wall.  "  Ross  Holland  !  Ross  Holland  !  "  staring  at 
the  figure,  as  he  would  upon  a  risen  ghost.  "0  my 
God!" 

Duke  spoke  that  name  not  irreverently ;  but  as  we  all 
may,  turning  in  the  human  anguish  of  an  awful  joy  or 


THE  HOLLANDS.  385 

sorrow  to  the  eternal  Love  and  Power,    greater  than 
ourselves. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,  whole  and  sound ;  although  I  came  close 
enough  to  making  a  meal  for  the  fish  in  the  Indian  Sea. 
Ah,  Walbridge  !  don't  stare  at  me  like  that ;  give  me  a 
welcome,  old  fellow."  . 

Then,  at  last,  —  what  would  Eva  have  said  at  such  a 
scene  between  two  men  ?  —  Duke  actually  took  the  stout 
figure  in  his  arms  and  hugged  and  kissed  it ;  but  all  he 
could  say ,.  was,  the  tears  running  over  his  cheeks,  "0 
Ross  Holland  !  Boss  Holland  !  " 

Young  Holland  was  as  much  overcome  as  his  friend. 
He  returned  the  hugging  in  earnest.  "  Old  fellow,  — 
it's  good  to  see  you  !  "  he  sobbed. 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  dead  !  "  cried  Duke,  hold- 
ing the  other  out  at  arm's-length,  and  laughing  and  cry- 
ing together,  and  not  even  ashamed  of  himself. 

"So  did  I,"  answered  Ross.  "  But  you  see  I  wasn't. 
I'm  good  for  a  strong  tussle  yet  with  fate." 

"  And  Jessamine.  It  will  kill  her,  Ross, — the  joy 
will  kill  her  !  " 

"  I  was  afraid  of  that.  When  we  got  into  New  York 
I  learned  the  shipwreck  had  gone  over  the  country ;  so  I 
didn't  telegraph,  but  I  took  the  next  train,  and  made  a 
rush  from  the  depot  to  find  you,  and  to  decide  how  I 
should  make  myself  known  to  her." 

"  Sit  down  a  moment,  my  dear  fellow,  so  my  eyes  can 
look  at  you  while  we  make  our  plans." 

But  it  was  impossible  to  sit  still.     Both  were  excited, 
and  one  so  hungry  for  a  sight  of  his  sister.     In  a  few 
33 


386  THE  HOLLANDS. 

words  the  young  man  related  the  main  facts  of  his  ship- 
wreck. The  vessel  went  to  pieces  in  the  terrific  storm. 
For  a  day  and  two  nights  Ross  had  clung  to  a  raft, 
swift,  black  waves  going  over  and  slowly  drowning  the 
life  out  of  him ;  torturing  thirst  and  gnawing  hunger 
making  him  almost  long  to  die ;  ^nd  at  last  his  memory 
went  down  in  blank  unconsciousness.  There  were  three 
others  on  the  raft  with  himself,  and  all  made  up  their 
minds  that  they  saw  the  sun  rise  for  the  last  time,  when 
it  came  up  and  found  them  still  on  the  raft  -the  second 
morning.  But  before  noon  a  brig  came  in  sight.  Sig- 
nals brought  her  to  their  help.  When  Ross  was  lifted 
into  the  vessel,  the  men  doubted  whether  it  were  not 
a  dead  man's  body  whom  they  took  on  board.  But 
prompt  and  diligent  care  soon  brought  signs  of  life, 
and  Ross  woke  up  to  find  he  was  in  the  world  once 
more. 

The  brig  which  had  rescued  Ross  and  his  companions 
was  a  French  vessel  from  China,  bound  for  Havre.  They 
had  a  slow,  stormy  passage.  Ross  reached  port  just  in 
time  to  seize  the  next  steamer  for  America,  so  no  let- 
ters could  be  despatched  in  advance  of  himself.  Late 
the  night  before  he  had  landed  on  his  native  shores. 

"Those  awful  days  and  nights  on  the  raft  in  that 
black  sea  !  They  seemed  longer  than  all  the  rest  of  my 
life  !  "  and  Ross  shuddered. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  Duke's  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  I  thought  of  Jessamine,  and  what  she  would  do  with- 
out me  !  And  then  I  thought  of  you,  and  of  that  last 
promise  you  made  me.  I  could  trust  you  entirely,  and 


THE  HOLLANDS.  887 

yet  do  your  best  you  could  not  quite  be  her  brother, 
Duke."     There  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"  No ;  "  a  smile  coming  into  his  face.  "  I  tried  that, 
Ross,  and  it  wouldn't  go.  I  found  that  Jessamine  Hol- 
land could  not  be  my  sister." 

"  Why  not  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Ross,  quite 
bewildered. 

"  I  mean  that  you  and  I  are  to  be  brothers,  Ross." 

In  a  moment  the  young  man  understood.  It  was  the 
happiest  hour  of  Ross's  life.  They  wrung  each  other's 
hands  until  both  shoulders  ached. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  could  have  given  me 
so  much  joy,"  said  Ross,  over  and  over.  "Is  it  so  ?  " 

"Ask  Jessamine,  if  you  doubt  my  word,"  laughed 
Duke. 

"  Come,  we  must  start  this  minute.     There's  no  time    . 
to  be  lost ;  only,  Duke,  tell  me,  how  did  she  bear  the  tid- 
ings when  they  came  ?  ' ' 

"It  well-nigh  killed  her,  Ross  !  " 

"  I  knew  it  would  —  my  poor  darling !  " 

"I  was  out  West  at  the  time.  I  hurried  straight 
back.  That  was  before  —  I  found  her  looking  as  though 
she  would  soon  go  in  search  of  you.  Ah,  Ross,  I  had 
learned  long  ago  what  she  could  not  be  to  me,  by  the 
measure  of  what  she  could !  One  day,  not  meaning  to 
tell  her,  sitting  by  her  side,  it  all  came  out.  Since  then 
she  has  grown  herself  again." 

And  that  was  all  Ross  ever  knew  of  the  long  darkness 
which  had  fallen  into  the  lives  of  both,  and  of  the  plot 
of  which  each  had  so  long  been  the  victim. 


388  THE  HOLLANDS. 

It  was  settled  that  Duke  should  ride  out  to  the  Kents 
with  his  friend,  and  in  some  measure,  if  possible,  pre- 
pare Jessamine  for  what  was  to  come.  So  the  lover  and 
brotherj  equally  impatient,  sprang  into  a  carriage  and 
drove  away. 

It  was  a  fortunate  circumstance  that  Mrs.  Kent  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  front  hall  that  morning  as  Duke  Wai- 
bridge  entered  it.  The  lady  came  forward  to  greet  him 
and  his  friend,  fancying,  from  his  bronzed  complexion, 
that  the  latter  was  some  old  travelling  companion  of 
young  Walbridge's. 

As  soon  as  the  lady  had  ushered  her  guests  into  the 
parlor,  Duke  took  her  hand,  saying,  "  Can  you  bear  a 
great  and  joyful  surprise,  my  dear  Mrs.  Kent?  " 

"  I  hope  so ;  "  looking  from  one  gentleman  to  the  other 
in  amazement. 

"  Then  let  me  introduce  to  you  now  this  gentleman, — 
my  friend,  and  Jessamine's  brother,  Mr.  Ross  Holland." 

At  that  name  she  turned  white,  and  staggered  against 
a  chair.  Both  the  gentlemen  had  no  easy  time  to  calm 
her,  for  amazement  and  joy  threw  her  almost  into 
hysterics. 

But  at  last  she  could  hold  Ross  Holland's  hand  in  her 
own,  and  gaze  at  the  brown,  bearded  face  through  her 
tears.  Then  she  started  and  cried,  "There  is  Jessa- 
mine. If  it  should  come  too  suddenly,  it  must  kill  her." 
And  she  glanced  toward  the  door  in  a  fright. 
.  "  Where  is  she  ?  "  whispered  Duke. 

"  Upstairs,  in  the  sitting-room.  But  she  is  liable  to  run 
down  any  moment.  Somebody  must  go  to  her  at  once." 


THE  HOLLANDS.  889 

11 1  will,"  answered  Duke.  "You  stay  here,  Ross, 
with  Mrs.  Kent,  and  I  will  try  and  prepare  her." 

Great  was  Jessamine  Holland's  amazement  to  see  her 
friend  enter  the  sitting-room  unannounced. 

"  You  see  I  am  quite  at  home  here ;  "  taking  a  seat  by 
her,  and  explaining  how  he  had  met  Mrs.  Kent  in  the 
hall,  and  she  had  sent  him  upstairs,  where  he  would 
find  Miss  Holland. 

Then  he  went  on  to  say,  "Now  I  am  certain  you 
are  curious  to  know  what  can  have  brought  me  over 
here  at  this  unconscionable  hour  of  the  morning." 

"  A  little,  I  confess.     Are  you  ready  to  tell  me?  " 

"  Nothing  bad,  at  least." 

"  I  saw  that  by  your  face." 

But  his  heart  beat  so  loud  at  his  throat,  that  he 
actually  had  to  stop  here  and  go  to  talking  of  other 
matters. 

At  last  he  made  a  fresh  attempt.  ' '  Jessamine,  you 
and  I  do  not. talk  of — of  our  brother." 

"  No ;  "  the  sweetness  of  her  face  going  down  in  sor- 
row. "  There  is  no  need,  when  we  always  think  of 
him." 

' '  There  is  a  question  I  would  like  to  ask  you  about 
him." 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Duke." 

"  Has  it  ever,  in  the  remotest  way,  occurred  to  you 
that  —  that  tliere  was  a  slight  chance  he  might  be 
alive?" 

He  felt  her  start  and  quiver  all  over. 

"  Ross  alive  !     Duke  !  " 


390  THE  HOLLANDS. 

He  took  her  hand.  "  Be  quiet,  now,  my  dear  girl. 
I  only  mean  to  say  that  I  have  sometimes  entertained 
some  hopes.  You  know  that  in  a  shipwreck  people  are 
often  saved,  and  come  to  light  long  after  they  are  given 
over  for  dead.  Ross  was  a  wonderful  swimmer,  and 
could  keep  above  water  where  most  men  would  go  down." 

"But  why  have  you  never  told  me  this  before, 
Duke?" 

"I  feared  to  awaken  false  hopes,  Jessamine;  but  I 
have  just  learned  some  facts  which  give  me  a  hope  — " 

She  was  off  her  feet  in  an  instant,  clutching  at  his 
arm,  the  wild,  hungry  look  in  her  eyes. 

"  A  hope  that  Ross  is  living  !  You  know  something, 
Duke  —  I  see  it  in  your  face  !  ' ' 

She  was  trembling  all  over. 

"  There,  dear  child,  be  calm,  or  I  shall  not  dare  go  on." 

She  sat  down  then ;  and  though  she  shook  in  every 
limb,  and  her  lips  were  very  white,  she  said,  "I  will. 
Go  on." 

It  was  hard  for  Duke,  with  those  eyes  on  his  face, 
thinking  who  was  below  stairs  all  the  while;  but  he 
managed  to  say,  ' '  I  saw  a  person  who  was  on  the  ship- 
wrecked vessel.  He  knew  Ross ;  and  it  was  his  opinion 
that  he  did  not  go  down  with  the  others." 

"  0  my  God,  my  God !  "  in  just  the  way  Duke  had 
said  it  before  that  morning. 

She  wrung  her  hands.  The  tears  poured  down  her 
cheeks.  Then  her  hungry  eyes  went  up  to  Duke's  face 
again.  "Where  is  this  person?  There  is  something 
more  than  you  tell  me,  Duke  !  " 


•  THE  HOLLANDS.  391 

"  If  you  would  not  look  at  me,  and  tremble  like  this, 
Jessamine  !     It  frightens  me." 

"There,  now,  tell  me."     Ashen  white  she  put  both 
her  hands  in  his.      "  Tell  me,"  she  said  again. 

"  I  have  seen  the  person.     I  have  brought  him.here  — 
and  —  and  — ' ' 

Not  his  words,  but  something  in  his  face,  struck  her. 
"Had  he  seen  Ross?"  she  cried  out,  sharply. 

And  Duke  did  not  dare  answer,  and  then  she  knew. 
In  an  instant,   and  with  a  shriek  that   reached  the 
listening  people  below,  she  tore  herself  away  from  him. 
She  rushed  along  the  stairs,  and  Duke,  following  after, 
shouted  to  her  to  come  back. 

'f  Run  !  run  !  "  screamed  Mrs.  Kent  to  Ross. 
But  it  was  too  late.  Before  he  could  turn,  Jessamine 
bounded  into  the  room.  She  saw  the  brown,  bearded 
stranger  who  stood  there,  and  he  saw  the  little  sister 
whom  he  had  left  six  long  years  before,  in  the  shadow 
of  Hannah  Bray's  veranda ;  and  the  face,  a  little  riper 
and  maturer,  wore  still  the  old  charm  and  sweetness 
which  he  had  carried  in  his  heart  over  sounding  seas,  and 
amid  hot  Indian  jungles,  in  the  silences  of  the  desert  and 
amid  the  thick  swarms  of  foreign  cities,  —  the  face  that 
had  been  a  guardian  angel  about  him,  keeping  his 
thoughts  sweet  and  his  life  pure  amid  fierce  temptations ; 
the  face  that  always  seemed  close  by  him  in  his  prayer 
at  night.  —  the  old  boyhood's  prayer  for  himself  and  her ; 
—  the  face  that  he  had  not  forgotten  when  he  cried  to 
God  out  of  the  great  peril  of  the  deep.  At  the  sight  of 
it  now,  turned  up  to  him  in  its  white  agitation,  the  young 


392  THE  HOLLANDS. 

man's  long  self-control  utterly  broke  down.     He  put  out 
his  arms  with  a  cry  :  •"  0  Jessamine,  my  sister  ! ;' 

One  long,  sobbing  shriek  of  passionate  doubt  and  joy, 
and  she  sank  into  her  brother's  arms,  and  was  gathered 
up  a  white  heap  to  his  heart. 

The  joy  did  not  kill  her.  Three  or  four  evenings 
later,  the  three,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kent,  were  all 
assembled  in  the  parlor,  as  happy  a  company  as  one 
could  often  find  together  in  this  world,  —  the  happiest 
face  of  all,  that  of  Jessamine  Holland,  which  three  of 
the  four  actually  thought  the  most  beautiful  thing  in  the 
world !  They  had  been  talking  in  a  light,  merry  vein, 
as  people  do  whose  hearts  brim  over  with  deep  feeling. 
Jessamine  sat  before  the  two  young  men,  feasting  her 
never-sated  eyes  on  her  brother. 

' '  You  dear  boy,  those  Indian  suns  have  made  dread- 
ful work  with  your  complexion  !  "  she  said. 

"  It  was  the  sea,  more  than  the  sun.  But  it  makes 
very  little  difference.  When  a  fellow  comes  home,  after 
half-a-dozen  years'  absence,  and  finds  somebody  else  has 
stepped  as  snugly  into  his  shoes  as  you  have  into  mine, 
Walbridge,  he  isn't  apt  to  feel  very  much  the  loss  of  his 
complexion.  Mine,  at  the  best,  was  never  much  to 
boast  of." 

"Yes,  it  was.  Ask  Hannah  Bray,"  replied  Jessa- 
mine, who  was  laughing,  and  glowing  a  good  deal  over 
her  brother's  personal  remarks. 

Ross,  who  always  enjoyed  a  joke  mercilessly,  pursued 
the  subject.  "Ah,  little  sister,  do  you  remember  how 
often  you  have  promised  never  to  love  anybody  so  well  as 


THE  HOLLANDS.  393 

your  brother ;  and  do  you  remember,  too,  the  cottage  we 
were  to  have?  Alas,  for  the  frailty  of  a  fellow's  hopes  ! 
For  six  years,  under  blazing  Indian  suns,  that  cottage 
was  before  me,  —  the  goal  of  all  my  future.  It  went 
down  into  my  dreams  at  night,  and  rose  with  me  in  the 
morning,  and  I've  come  home  at  last  to  find  it  was  all 
moonshine." 

"No,  it  was  not,"  answered  Duke,  coming  to  Jessa- 
mine's rescue.  "  The  cottage  is  a  fixed  fact  in  the 
future,  veranda  and  balconies,  shrubberies  and  all.  And 
Ross  Holland  is  to  be  the  most  important  member  of  the 
household  under  its  roof." 

Then  Jessamine  broke  out,  playfully  :  "  How  in  the 
world  can  I  ever  have  the  care  of  two  such  big  fellows  on 
my  hands?  It's  an  awful  responsibility." 

"  I'm  coming  to  help  you,  dear,  as  often  as  I  can  coax 
my  husband  into  granting  me  leave  of  absence,"  added 
Mrs.  Kent. 

"If  that's  all,  you  will  see  her  very  often,"  rejoined 
the  gentleman ;  "for  she  has  a  way  of  coaxing  me  into 
everything  she  wants." 

"It  strikes  me,  at  this  moment,"  continued  Ross, 
"  that  the  very  best  thing  I  can  do  is  to  follow  Jessa- 
mine's example.  Ah,  Walbridge,  if  that  little  sister  of 
yours,  whose  withered  flowers  I  kept  all  these  years  for  her 
sake  and  yours,  were  only  a  little  older  !  But  I  can  wait." 

"  I  wish  you  joy  of  the  waiting,  Holland;  and  there 
is  just  one  man  in  the  world  to  whom  I  could  willingly 
give  up  my  little  Eva.  She  has  been  able  to  talk  of 
nothing  in  the  world  but  yourself  since  your  return; 


394  THE  HOLLANDS. 

and  once  she  sorrowed  over  you  as  did  only  Jessamine 
and  I.  You  are  all  invited  there  to-morrow  to  dinner, 
as  you  know." 

So  the  talk  went,  gayly  oftenest,  and  sometimes 
grave ;  and  Jessamine,  listening,  thought  there  was  one 
thing  more  in  the  world,  that  would  make  her  exquisitely 
glad,  and  that  was,  if  her  little  favorite  could  ever  be 
what  Duke  had  said.  She  had  never  thought  of  this 
before ;  but  she  knew  Ross  and  Eva  thoroughly,  and  it 
struck  her  now  how  singularly,  in  many  respects,  they 
were  adapted  to  each  other. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  things,  company  called  on  the 
host  and  hostess;  so  the  three  young  people  were  left 
alone  together. 

"  Ross,  you  have  written  to  Hannah  Bray?  " 

"Yes;  this  morjiing.  I  promised  to  run  up  for  a 
couple  of  days  next  week,  if  you  could  possibly  be  pre- 
vailed on  to  spare  me  !  " 

"  You  shall  take  me  along,  Ross.  Dear,  faithful  old 
heart !  How  it  will  bound  at  the  sight  of  you  !  " 

Duke  was  silent  a  long  time,  looking  from  the  sister 
to  the  brother;  at  last  Ross  said,  "Well,  Walbridge, 
what  are  you  thinking?  " 

"  Shall  I  tell  him,  Jessamine?  "  getting  up  and  going 
to  the  girl,  and  laying  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"Yes." 

"I  was  thinking  of  these  words,  and,  setting  them  apart 
from  all  others,  of  the  tender,  and  beautiful,  and  sacred 
meanings  which  ought  to  lie  in  them  for  every  man,  '  The 
woman  whom  Thou  gavest  to  be  with  me! ' " 


THE  HOLLANDS.  395 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

AMID  all  the  happiness  which  brimmed  over  the  golden 
rim  of  these  days  for  Duke  Walbridge,  he  was  haunted 
by  the  thought  of  the  banker's  young  under-clerk,  whose 
crime  had  interposed  between  himself  and  that  one 
moment  which  Duke  could  hardly  contemplate  without  a 
shudder,  thinking  always  more  of  Jessamine  than  of 
himself. 

It  was  singular,  and  yet  hardly  to  be  •sundered  at,  when 
one  thinks  how  his  fate  in  the  banker's  splendid  parlor, 
with  the  beautiful  daughter  beaming  at  his  side,  had  hung 
on  an  instant,  that  Duke  Walbridge.  being  the  man  he 
was,  felt  a  profound  sympathy  for  that  young  boy,  whose 
evil  deed  had  wrought  his  own  great  happiness.  It  came 
upon  him,  too,  sometimes,  with  awful  force,  how  Edith's 
plot,  rash  and  bold  as  it  was  wicked,  and  impossible  to  suc- 
ceed as  he  should  have  deemed  it  in  another's  case,  had 
barely  failed  of  a  triumphant  issue  in  his  own.  He  saw, 
too,  how  the  fatal  words,  having  once  been  spoken,  and  he 
Margaret  Wheatley's  accepted  and  acknowledged  lover, 
there  was  not  the  smallest  probability  that  either  Jessa- 
mine or  himself  would  ever  have  learned  the  plot,  of  which 
each  had  been  made  the  dupe. 


396  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Mrs.  Walbridge  and  her  elder  daughters  must  have 
been  haunted  at  times  by  an  under  consciousness,  anything 
but  pleasant,  of  the  means  which  they  had  employed  to  reach 
the  golden  goal  of  Margaret  Wheatley's  hand;  but  a  con- 
fession, which  would  only  overwhelm  them  with  shame  and 
involve  cruel  wrong  to  three  others  when  too  late  to  repair 
it,  would  never  have  entered  their  minds. 

There  were  plenty  of  arguments,  too,  which  would  fur- 
nish more  or  less  self-justification  to  all  concerned  in 
bringing  about  Duke's  marriage. 

As  for  his  own  share  in  the  matter,  he  saw  clearly 
enough  how  that  must  have  gone. 

Once  Margaret  Wheatley's  affianced  husband,  con- 
science and  honor,  as  well  as  his  own  peace  of  mind, 
would  have  influenced  him  to  make  the  best  of  the  facts ; 
to  forget  as  far^as  possible  his  love  and  his  disappoint- 
ment. 

All  this  would  have  been  cordially  promoted  by  his 
family  ;  and  the  knowledge  of  the  delight  which  his  choice 
afforded  to  all  those  whom  he  loved  best  could  not  have 
been  without  its  effect  upon  him. 

His  affections  were  vital  things  ;  but  a  brave  soul  always 
girds  itself  to  front  the  inevitable.  Duke  Walbridge  was 
not  the  man  to  go  through  life  miserable,  because  a  woman 
whom  he  loved  had  rejected  him ;  but,  for  all  that, 
the  pain  must  have  gone  to  the  quick,  and  its  secret  state 
would  have  driven  him  desperate,  —  impelled  him  to  con- 
summate matters  at  once;  and  his  family,  dreading  the 
possibility  of  awkward  developments,  would  have  been 
equally  desirous  of  the  happy  finale.  "All  for  Duke's 


THE  HOLLANDS.  397 

• 

good, "  each  would  have  told  the  other,  and  more  or  less 
believed  it. 

Before  that  time  there  would,  no  doubt,  have  been  the 
splendid  wedding,  the  glitter  and  gorgeousness,  the 
array  of  bridal  gifts ;  and  Duke  Walbridge  would  have 
been  the  envied  husband  of  the  banker's  beautiful  heiress. 

Always  at  the  end  of  this  shining  perspective,  which 
haunted  Duke's  soul  in  solitary  hours  of  the  night  and 
day,  there  stood  a  vague,  young,  mournful  figure,  the  one 
which  had  interposed  between  him  and  that  moment  in 
which  he  was  ready  for  the  fatal  leap, —  "  the  figure  of 
a  criminal ;  but  his  good  angel,  for  all  that,"  Duke 
thought. 

So  his  curiosity  and  interest  grew  ;  side  by  side  with 
them  in  his  thought  and  heart,  a  yearning  desire  to  serve 
in  some  way,  the  unhappy  stranger  of  whom  he  knew  so 
little  and  so  much. 

The  result  was,  that  one  morning  Duke  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  to  New  York  for  a  day  or  two.  What  he 
should  do,  when  he  got  there,  he  left  circumstances  to 
determine. 

He  found  on  the  train  Ross  Holland,  who  came  up  to 
the  Rents  every  spare  moment  that  he  had.  The  ladies 
were  there  also,  having  driven  over  with  him  to  the  train. 
Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  trio  on  seeing  Duke  enter, 
duly  equipped  with  carpet-bag  and  overcoat. 

He  explained  briefly  that  some  business  was  taking  him 
off,  for  a  day  or  two,  to  the  city ;  and  a  few  moments  of 
merry  talk  and  jest  ensued  before  the  bell  rang,  and  the 
adieux  had  to  be  spoken. 


398  THE  HOLLANDS. 

m 

In  the  midst  of  these,  as  the  gentleman  handed  the 
ladies  from  the  cars,  a  thought  struck  Jessamine  that  she 
•was  blessed  above  most  women  in  such  a  brother,  and  such 
a  lover,  and  then  a  swift  memory  leaped  upon  her  of  the 
time,  not  long  ago,  when  both  were  lost  to  her. 

She  turned  upon  the  young  men  her  last  smile,  but  she 
did  not  know  that  its  unutterable  tenderness  was  burdened 
with  the  awful  memory  at  her  heart,  and  that  both  brother 
and  lover  saw,  as  though  she  had  spoken  ;  and  for  a  long 
time  after  they  resumed  their  seats  each  was  silent, 
thinking  of  that  look  with  which  Jessamine  had  smiled 
her  good-by. 

At  last  the  prospective  brothers-in-law  fell  to  talking, 
comparing  notes  of  the  different  parts  of  the  world  each 
had  seen. 

Ross  was  full  of  stories  of  life  in  India,  vigorous  and 
racy.  Duke  wondered  how  the  fellow  had  kept  so  alert 
and  keen  during, those  long  years,  no  sign  of  rust  in 
thought  or  wit,  and  at  last,  he  said  to  young  Holland, 
"  I  always  supposed  the  most  people  could  do,  was  to  keep 
up  life  at  all  in  that  hot.  sleepy  peninsula ;  but  you  seem 
to  have  been  keen  on  the  scent  with  books  and  people,  as 
though  you'd  been  braced  up  in  NCAV  England  all  this 
time." 

Ross  laughed.  "  It  was  hard  work,  though,  rowing 
against  wind  and  tide,  but  I  wouldn't  let  the  helm  go. 

'•  The  truth  was,  Walbridge,  I  saw  what  lazy,  sleepy, 
bilious  nabobs  the  climate  turned  out  of  the  foreign  resi- 
dents in  the  course  of  a  few  years,  and  I  said  to  myself, 
'  Young  man,  look  sharply  to  what  wits  you've  got. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  399 

Don't  you  go  to  lounging  and  mooning  like  the  rest  of 
'em ;  but  just  stick  to  your  books  all  your  spare  hours, 
as  you  used  to  in  the  little  law-office,  so  that  when  you  go 
back,  you  won't  be  such  a  "  John-a-dreams,"  your  sister 
will  blush  for  you ; '  and  I  did  it  through  thick  and  thin. 

"As  for  society,  there  was  no  lack  of  that;  rather  a 
surfeit,  you  see,  what  with  the  English  and  American 
residents." 

"  What  grit  there  must  be  in  the  Holland  grain  !  "  ex- 
claimed Duke,  looking  affectionately  at  his  friend,  who 
laughed  and  said  he  should  repeat  "that  ambiguous 
compliment  and  mixed  metaphor  to  Jessamine." 

Through  all  the  journey,  Duke  felt  some  doubts  lest  he 
had  started  off  on  a  very  Quixotic  errand.  The  whole 
matter  to  himself  was  one  of  feeling,  rather  than  of 
judgment.  "  How  would  it  look  in  the  eyes  of  any  dis- 
interested, sensible  man,  like  Ross  here,  for  instance  ?  "  he 
wondered,  a  sudden  impulse  coming, over  him  to  tell  the 
object  of  his  journey  to  his  friend,  suppressing,  of  course, 
that  part  which  concerned  himself  and  Margaret  Wheat- 
ley. 

Ross,  at  the  core  of  him,  was  one  of  the  softest-hearted 
fellows  in  the  world ;  but  he  had  his  theories  cut  and  dried, 
and  they  were  a  young  man's,  and  partook  also  of  the 
original  ' '  setness  ' '  of  his  character. 

His  residence  in  India,  also,  had  gone  far  to  confirm 
his  creed.  He  could  not  fail  to  see  there  a  great  deal  of 
the  worst  side  of  human  nature,  its  cowardice,  baseness, 
vileness.  Ross  brought  every  instance  to  his  own  rule, 
and  squared  it  there.  He  held  that  honor  must  be  native 


400  THE  HOLLANDS. 

and  absolute  with  men.  If  a  soul  slipped  once,  there  was 
small  hope  of  its  getting  on  its  feet  again,  and  staying 
there. 

Young  Holland  listened  silently,  losing  no  word  of 
his  friend's  story ;  and  when  his  answer  came,  it  was  part- 
ly of  the  heart,  partly  of  the  creed. 

"  You  are  a  grand  fellow,  Duke,  and  it  doesn't  come 
easy  to  me  to  throw  cold  water  on  a  generous  act.  But 
I  fear  it's  all  time  and  trouble  thrown  away.  If  this 
young  fellow  had  had  moral  backbone,  he  wouldn't  have 
gone  down  so  easily. 

"  I'  ve  seen  something  of  human  life  in  the  last  half- 
dozen  years,  you  know,  and  if  the  taint  is  in  the  blood 
and  marrow,  why,  there  it  is  —  sure  to  come  out,  like 
any  disease.  Set  such  people  on  their  feet,  and  down 
they'll  go  again,  over  and  over  —  not  spine  enough  to 
stan'd  upright." 

"  Very  likely  Ross  had  the  best  of  it,"  Duke  thought. 
Then  he  remembered  all  he  had  held  back  from  his  friend, 
and  that  might  have  modified  this  reply. 

In  the  noise  and  crowd  of  the  depot  where  the  young 
men  parted  half  an  hour  later,  Ross  wished  his  friend 
' '  God  speed, ' '  hoping  the  boy  would  prove  an  exception  to 
his  class  ;  but  Duke  saw  that  Ross  had  very  little  faith  in 
the  result. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon ;  but  young  Walbridge  hur- 
ried at  once  to  the  banker's  office.  One  of  the  head  clerks, 
whom  the  former  knew,  had  been  detained  that  evening. 
After  a  little  brief  talk  on  general  topics,  Duke  managed 
to  introduce  the  subject  which  alone  interested  him. 


THE  HOLLANDS.  401 

il  Oh,  you  mean  Barclay  !  "  said  the  clerk,  slipping  his 
pen  behind  his  ear.  ' '  A  good-hearted,  well-meaning  lit- 
tle fellow  as  ever  lived,  but  no  experience,  and  the  city 
proved  too  much  for  him  —  bad  company  —  debts,  and 
went  down  in  the  maelstrom  ;  old  story,  you  know  ;  "  and 
the  man  shook  his  head.  "  One  must  make  examples. 
Paid  for  his  crime  dearly  though ;  shut  up  in  the  Tombs 
all  this  time,  awaiting  his  trial." 

''What!  hasn't,  that  come  off  yet?"  asked  Duke, 
amazed.  He  had  supposed  the  boy  had  long  since  been 
sentenced,  and  was  serving  out  his  time  in  the  State's 
Prison. 

It  proved,  however,  on  further  inquiry,  that  there  had 
been,  to  use  the  clerk's  phrase,  "some  hitch  in  getting 
hold  of  the  right  witnesses,"  so  that  the  boy,  after  his  ex- 
amination, had  been  detained  in  the  Tombs. 

"Matters  were  in  the  right  train  now,"  to  quote  the 
clerk  again,  and  the  trial  was  expected  to  come  off  the 
day  after  to-morrow. 

These  were  substantially  all  the  facts  which  Duke 
elicited  from  the  clerk.  He  left  the  office  resolved  to  call 
at  the  Tombs  the  next  morning. 

Of  the  two  hours  next  day,  in  that  bare,  solitary  room 
with  its  barred  windows,  where  the  young  life  that  had 
miscarried  itself  so  fatally  had  been  imprisoned  for  all 
these  months,  it  would  almost  take  another  book  to  tell 
fairly.  Duke  Walbridge  and  Tom  Barclay  know,  and  that 
is  enough ;  but  neither  of  these  will  ever  be  likely  to  say 
much  about  it. 

Duke  found  a  small,  wiry  youth,  with  pale  yellow  hair, 
34 


402  THE  HOLLANDS. 

and  a  dawn  of  yellow  beard  on  his  chin  ;  a  good  face 
enough,  pale  with  long  confinement  and  trouble.  What- 
ever boldness  and  evil  were  latent  there,  the  years  would 
have  to  confirm. 

A  gust  of  pity  swept  over  young  Walbridge,  which  for 
the  time  bore  down  all  the  doubts  and  fears  of  his  better 
judgment,  as  the  two  whose  lines  had  so  mysteriously 
crossed  each  other  stood  alone  in  the  dark,  bare,  silent 
Tombs.  . 

Of  course  the  boy  meant  to  be  on  his  guard.  His  coun- 
sel, such  as  he  had  been  able  to  employ,  had  warned  him 
about  \hat,  but  his  solitude  and  loneliness  had  borne  very 
heavily  on  him,  and  he  had  so  very  few  friends,  while 
Duke's  personal  magnetism  made  the  impression  on 
Tom  Barclay  that  it  did  on  most  people. 

The  whole  miserable  story  from  beginning  to  end  was 
gone  over.  It  is  so  very  common  as  not  to  possess  one 
striking  feature.  The  new  city  life,  the  inadequate  salary, 
the  small  debts  incurred  here  and  there,  the  first  attempts 
at  gambling,  the  gains  and  the  losses;  the  little  debts 
swelling  into  a  large  aggregate,  the  demands  of  creditors, 
the  despair  and  desperation,  and,  at  last,  the  only  door  out 
of  them,  which  opened  so  easily,  and  which  it  seemed 
would  open  so  readily  for  the  boy  to  return  again,  —  the 
door  of  crime. 

"  If  I  had  only  died  !  If  I  had  only  died  !  "  moaned 
the  boy,  rocking  himself  back  and  forth,  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

Duke  looked  at  the  poor  fellow  with  unutterable  sym- 
pathy, yet  he  felt  that,  if  there  was  any  hope  for  this 


THE  HOLLANDS.  403 

boy's  future,  the  ploughshare  must  go  now  to  the  roots  of 
his  life,  and  he  must  not  spare  for  the  writhing  and  the 
agony.  "  Had  you  nobody  who  loved  you  ?"  he  asked; 
"no  mother  or  sister  to  whom  the  knowledge  of  your 
crime  would  be  worse  than  that  of  your  death?  " 

The  boy  looked  up ;  something  like  a  gleam  of  joy  came 
into  the  haggard  face.  "  I  had  a  sister,"  he  said,  "three 
years  younger  than  I ;  she  was  all  I  had  in  the  world,  and 
I  was  her  love  and  pride.  She  was  a  sweet,  gentle,  trust- 
ing little  thing,  and  she  died  three  months  before  this 
happened.  0  Ruth !  Ruth !  it  would  have  killed  you 
if  you  had  known  it !  " 

The  next  morning  Duke  called  at  the  banker's  office. 
He  was  by  no  means  a  stranger  to  the  large,  pleasant 
room,  with  its  dark  walnut  panellings,  and  its  great  sub- 
stantial office  table,  and  chairs  in  oak  and  green  morocco. 

He  found  the  owner  here,  an  elderly  man,  with  a  kind 
of,  Roman  head  and  sparse  gray  hair,  portly,  prosperous, 
and  patronizing ;  a  man  about  the  age  of  Duke's  father, 
and  a  good  deal  after  his  type.  Young  Walbridge  was 
always  certain  of  a  cordial  welcome  at  the  banker's. 
After  the  two  had  gone  around  the  circle  of  personal  and 
family  topics,  Duke,  fearing  some  interruption,  for  time 
was  precious  on  both  sides  now,  at  once  opened  his  errand. 

At  the  first  mention  of  Tom  Barclay's  name  the 
elder  gentleman  knit  his  gray  brows  and  stroked  his  tufts 
of  whiskers  in  anything  but  an  encouraging  manner,  for 
his  former  office-boy.  Yet  he  listened  courteously,  but 
Duke  saw,  wholly  sceptical,  to  the  end. 

Yet  the  elder  was  not  in  the  worst  sense  a  hard-hearted 


404  THE  HOLLANDS. 

man.  He  had,  it  is  true,  no  profound  faith  in  human  na- 
ture, his  experience  not  tending  to  develop  that;  but 
that  he  was  just  and  honorable  everybody  who  had  deal- 
ings with  the  banker  admitted. 

"  Duke,"-  —  when  the  younger  paused, — "  you  are  my 
friend,  and  so  I'd  gladly  oblige  you  by  letting  this  young 
scamp  go  scot-free ;  but  in  the  end  it  would  be  doing  you 
and  him  no  favor. 

"You  are  a  soft-hearted  fellow,  and  young  Barclay  has 
come  round  you  with  the  pathetic  dodge.  You  cannot  make 
rotten  timber  sound,  sir.  When  you've  lived  as  long  as 
I  have,  you'll  find  that  out.  I  honor  the  motive  which 
has  sent  you  here  on  the  fellow's  behalf;  but  he  did  a 
dishonest  act  with  eyes  wide  open,  and  there  is  no  use  in 
bolstering  him  up.  He'll  be  sure  to  go  down  again,  and 
we  owe  it  to  society  to  let  the  law  take  the  fangs  out  of 
him." 

Duke  had  foreseen  this  line  of  argument.  That  it 
was  largely  true  he  was  ready  to  admit,  and  having  con- 
ceded so  much  to  the  riper  wisdom  of  his  friend,  he  pro- 
ceeded with  his  own  view  of  the  case. 

Of  course  it  would  be  quite  impossible  to  go  over  with 
that  two  hours'  talk  between  the  elderly  man  and  the 
younger  one.  Had  Duke  pleaded  Tom  Barclay's  cause 
less  eloquently,  or  had  he  been  at  bottom  less  a  favorite 
with  the  banker,  he  would  never  have  carried  his  point. 

There  was  some  force  in  Duke's  reasoning,  that  the 
long  time  in  which  the  boy  had  been  in  the  Tombs  await- 
ing his  trial,  was,  in  itself,  no  small  punishment.  "At 
any  rate,  my  dear  sir,"  Duke  entreated,  "give  me  a 


THE  HOLLANDS.  405 

chance  to  try  the  boy.  It  is,  as  you  say.  an  experiment, 
and  it  loay  prove  a  worthless  one.  I  will  risk  it,  not 
for  the  boy's  sake,  but  for  iny  own.  Give  me  a  chance 
for  his  life." 

u  Well,  Duke,  my  boy,  you've  put  it  in  the  only  way 
to  carry  weight  with  me  ;  but  the  young  scoundrel  de-' 
serves  no  pity.  Such  a  barefaced  crime  too!  How  in 
the  world  did  he  happen  to  get  hold  of  you?  " 

Duke  wavered  a  moment,  and  then  thought  the  truth 
was  best,  so  far  as  he  had  told  it  to  Ross  Holland. 

"  The  facts  are,  I  was  at  your  house  on  the  evening  of 
the  boy's  arrest,  and  had  the  whole  story  from  Marga- 
ret's lips.  It  has  haunted  me  ever  since,  and  yesterday 
I  learned,  to  my  surprise,  that  this  boy,  still  in  the  Tombs, 
awaited  his  trial.  I  visited  him  there,  for  the  first  and 
only  time,  yesterday  morning." 

The  banker  was  more  astonished  than  ever.  "  Had 
the  story  from  Margaret,"  he  repeated.  "  Was  that  all 
you  knew  of  him  2  " 

"  That  was  all,  Mr.  Wheatley.'J 

The  banker  mused  a  moment,  and  then  he  spoke  : 
"  Well,  Duke,  you  are  a  good  fellow,  and,  for  your  sake, 
I  will  make  a  fool  of  myself.  The  boy  shall  have  an- 
other chance  ;  but  mind  what  I  say  now.  —  he  will  abuse 
it  by  getting  into  another  scrape." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  sir  !  If  young  Barclay 
makes  a  second  slip,  and  I  feel  by  no  means  secure  of 
him,  you  will,  at  least,  remember  that  for  one  day  you 
made  me  a  happy  man." 

And  the  two  men  grasped  hands  warmly. 


406  THE  HOLLANDS. 

Afterward  there  were  details  to  be  arranged.  Duke 
had  learned  all  the  broad  bearings  of  Thomas  Barclay's 
case.  There  was  one  witness  whose  testimony  would  be 
vital  in  the  matter,  and  without  which  his  crime  could 
not  be  brought  home  to  the  prisoner. 

The  banker  could  with  ease  secure  the  absence  of  this 
witness,  and  with  good  counsel  on  his  side  the  acquit- 
tal of  Tom  Barclay  before  judge  and  jury  would  be 
assured. 

"Capital  fellow,  that  Duke  Walbridge !  "  murmured 
the  banker,  as  the  young  man  left  the  office;  "should 
have  preferred  him  vastly  to  any  other  young  man  for  a 
son-in-law;  but  fathers  and  daughters'  choices  of  hus- 
bands do  not  usually  correspond ; ' '  fancying  Margaret 
must  have  had  the  matter  entirely  in  her  own  hands. 

"Ah,  my  dear  sir,  if  it  had  not  been  for  this  Tom 
Barclay,  shut  up  in  the  Tombs,  you  would  for  a  dead  cer- 
tainty have  been  my  father-in-law,"  thought  Duke  to 
himself,  as  he  left  the  office.  "  What. would  you  say  if 
you  knew  it  was  gratitude  for  my  escape  from  that  honor 
which  led  me  to  take  all  this  trouble?  " 

Duke  felt  almost,  for  the  moment,  as  though  he  had 
taken  some  underhand  advantage  of  the  old  man's  friend- 
ship ;  but,  after  all,  his  conscience  was  clean,  and  with 
this  reflection  he  started  at  once  in  quest  of  a  lawyer. 


Six  months  have  passed.  It  is  just  at  that  time  when 
May  and  June  meet  together,  and  the  earth  has  adorned 
herself  with  the  fresh  glory  of  leaves  and  blossoms,  and 


THE  HOLLANDS.  407 

the  very  air  is  solemn  with  incense,  atnd  the  sky  above  is 
holy  i^rith  smile  and  blessing  over  the  bridal  of  spring 
and  summer. 

In  the  little  alcove  parlor  at  Mrs.  Kent's,  Jessamine 
Holland  sits  alone  with  the  sunny  afternoon,  and  tells 
herself  that  at  this  very  time  to-morrow  she  will  be  Jes- 
samine Holland  no  longer. 

The  fair,  delicate  face  shines  with  a  great  internal  hap- 
piness ;  but  it  is  not  the  bright  joyfulness  of  one  who 
has  never  been  calmed  and  steadied  by  a  great  sorrow. 

If  her  thoughts  go  back  into  the  years,  they  fall 
among  the  heavy  shadows  of  her  youth,  and  the  radiant 
horizons  of  her  future  seem  just  now  to  fairly  dazzle  and 
blind  her ;  and  the  present,  touched  by  both  past  and  fu- 
ture, seems  like  a  soft  twilight,  where  she  likes  best  to 
linger  for  this  hour. 

"How  good  it  is  to  be  alone."  she  thinks,  "after 
a,ll  these  days  of  busy  stir  and  excitement  over  the  wed- 
ding preparations  !  "  Through  all,  that  dear  Mrs.  Kent, 
who  had  her  share  in  bringing  the  whole  about,  has  been 
in  her  element,  taking  everything  into  her  own  hands, 
and  arranging  things  mostly  her  own  way. 

In  one  case,  however,  Jessamine  has  had  hers.  Mrs. 
Kent  wanted  to  indulge  herself  in  an  ambitious  wedding ; 
but  Jessamine  pleaded  so  hard  for  a  quiet,  unpretending 
bridal,  that  the  former  had  to  yield,  and  consent  to  no 
guests  outside  of  the  "Walbridge  family  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bray.  Jessamine  .looks  around  the  pleasant  room,  and 
the  still  tears  gather  in  her  eyes,  remembering  the  time 
when  she  first  sat  there  so  long  ago.  Under  this  roof,  the 


408  THE  HOLLANDS. 

heaviest  storms  of  her  life  have  blackened  over  her,  and 
its  most  radiant  dawns  have  arisen. 

She  thinks,  too,  of  the  Father  to  whose  hands  she  has 
tried  to  cling  through  the  heaviest  hours,  and  the  happiest. 
"  Why,  Jessamine  !  "  says  a  voice  at  the  low,  open  window, 
and,  turning,  she  sees  Duke  Walbridge  bound  into  the 
room.  "  I  come  like  a  thief  and  a  robber,"  he  laughs, 
and  then,  catching  sight  of  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  adds 
gravely  enough,  ' '  What  do  they  mean,  Jessamine  ?  ' ' 

Her  smile  comes  out  and  answers  him,  and  Duke  does 
not  need  any  words  beyond  that.. 

They  sit  down  for  the  next  hour  and  talk,  partly  like 
young  lovers,  and  partly  like  a  sensible  man  and  woman,  . 
who  have  sounded  something  of  the  depths  of  human  life. 

They  talk  of  the  little  cottage  they  are  to  have,  a  couple 
of  miles  out  of  town.  Duke  ,has  been  with  the  architect 
that  day,  and  seen  the  drawings,  and  it  will  be  ready  for 
them  in  the  autumn ;  bay-windows,  verandas,  library,  and 
all ;  —  a  bobolink's  nest,  the  Walbridges  laughingly  call  it. 

Duke  is  to  go  into  business  with  his  father ;  the  old 
man  needs  his  son's  younger  muscle  and  brain. 

"  I  had  a  rare  opening  in  New  York  the  last  time  I  was 
there,"  Duke  says,  "  and  if  Iliad  gone  into  it  and  given 
soul  and  body  to  the  work,  I  might  have  built  up  a  grand 
fortune  in  time,  and  perhaps  set  you  in  a  palace  on  the 
Hudson,  or  somewhere  ;  but  you  and  I  do  not  care  for  the 
money  and  the  splendor,  Jessamine." 

"  Oh,  no,  Duke ;  no  more  than  I  did  for  poor  Mrs. 
Kent's  grand  wedding." 

Then  the  talk  slips  off  to  nearer  things,  to  the  bridal  ' 


THE  HOLLANDS.  409 

trip  to  Niagara  and  the  mountains,  and  Duke  thinks, 
although  ho  does  not  say  so,  how  those  beautiful  brown 
eyes  will  drink  in  with  fresh  amazement  and  delight  that 
great  world  they  have  never  seen. 

There  is  a  little  pause,  and  then  she  turns  to  him  sud- 
denly. "  I  cannot  tell  you,  Duke,  with  how  much 
pleasure  I  .have  dwelt  on  the  thought  that  I  shall  see 
Tom  Barclay  here  to-morrow.  Poor  fellow !  I  cannot 
help  feeling  that  the  presence  of  the  young  human  soul 
which  you  rescued  from  sin  and  shame  will  be  like  a 
visible  blessing  of  God  upon  our  bridal !  " 

"Poor  Tom  will  owe  as  much  to  Ross  as  to  me, 
Jessamine,  in  the  long  run,"  said  Duke.  "I  must  ad- 
mit, when  that  brother  of  ours  first  proposed  finding  the 
boy  a  situation  in  the  India  house,  I  was  half  doubtful 
over  his  offer. 

"  If  the  boy  turned  out  for  the  worse,  after  all,  I  should 
blame  myself  for  allowing  him  to  be  saddled  on  Ross;  but 
all  my  objections  went  for  nothing.  You  know  Ross  was 
present  at  the  trial,  and  at  the  interview  betwixt  Tom 
and  me,  after  the  acquittal.  That  was  enough.  In 
Tom  Barclay's  case,  at  least,  all  Ross'  theories  about 
moral  backbone  have  gone  to  the  winds  !  " 

"  He  holds  to  the  theories  yet,  with  his  native  mulish- 
ness,"  laughed  Jessamine ;  "he  only  insists  that  Tom 
Barclay  is  an  exception  to  the  rule  of  criminals." 

"Ross  gives  a  most  favorable  report  of  Tom's 
diligence  and  integrity,"  continued  Duke.  "  I  believe 
the  repentance  was  genuine  in  that  case.  By-the-by, 
he  was  quite  overcpme  with  his  invitation  for  to-morrow." 

35 


410  THE  HOLLANDS. 

"Was  he?  It  is  singular  how  the  thought  of  him 
haunts  me  to-day.  How  glad  I  am  that  he  is  tojje  here 
to-morrow,"  said  Jessamine,  half  to  herself.  Duke  looked 
at  her  a  moment,  and  an  impulse  came  upon  him  to  tell 
her  the  mysterious  share  which  Tom  Barclay  had  borne 
in  that  day's  happiness,  for  both  of  them. 

The  first  words  had  almost  reached  his  lips,  when  he 
paused. 

The  history  of  that  evening  with  Margaret  Wheatley 
could  not  fail  to  impress  Jessamine  deeply,  and  re- 
new with  painful  vividness,  just  at  the  time  she  was  to 
enter  his  family,  Jessamine's  sense  of  the  share  which 
they  had  borne  in  separating  himself  and  her. 

The  whole  story,  however  it  might  interest,  could  not 
fail  to  be  more  or  less  a  shock  to  her.  bringing  back,  with 
awful  force,  the  misery  of  days  and  months  which  it  was 
best  she  should  forget,  if  possible,  in  the  joy  of  her 
bridal.  When  the  years  had  widened  behind  them,  he 
might  dare  to  tell  her  the  story,  but  it  was  too  near  and 
too  vital  now. 

Out,  on  the  veranda,  voices  and  laughter  broke  sudden- 
ly into  his  thoughts,  and,  in  a  moment,  Mrs.  Kent  and 
Ross  and  Eva  broke  in  upon  them,  the  young  man  having 
driven  the  girl  over  from  town,  and  come  upon  the  lady 
in  her  grounds,  and  the  three  were  in  those  high  spirits 
which  seem  to  befit  the  eve  of  a  bridal. 

"Ah,  you  dear  things  !  "  burst  out  the  girl,  on  catch- 
ing sight  of  the  two.  "  We've  been  searching  all  over  the 
grounds  for  you.  Don't  you  think,  Duke,  mamma  has 
had  another  letter  from  Edith,  and  her  party  travelled  »o 


THE  HOLLANDS.  411 

slowly,  that  it  will  now  be  impossible  for  her  to  get  here 
in  time  to-morrow.     Isn't  it  aggravating? 

' '  I  expected  nothing  else  from  their  slow  rate  of 
moving." 

Eva  fancied  her  brother  was  too  keenly  disappointed  to 
say  more,  and  never  suspected  that  both  Jessamine  and 
himself  were  relieved  at  the  thought  that  the  fair,  proud 
face  would  not  show  itself  in  their  midst  to-morrow. 

Duke  had  never  forgiven  his  sister  the  wrong  she  had 
done  him.  He  wondered  sometimes,  if  he  should  ever  be 
Christian  enough  to  do  it. 

"  Miss  Eva,'*  interposed  Mrs.  Kent,  who  was  fluttering 
about  in  a  state  of  excited  enjoyment  all  this  time,  "I 
find  that  a  mysterious  package,  which  has  cost  me  intense 
anxiety,  has  just  arrived.  I  have  an  instinct  that  it  con- 
tains a  dress,  which  Miss  Jessamine  will  wear  to-morrow. 
I  want  you  to  help  me  unfold  it,  and  then  that  demure 
young  lady  is  to  walk  upstairs  and  try  it  on." 

'  "With  all  my  heart,"  answered  Eva,  and  nodding  and 
laughing  toward  her  brother  and  Jessamine,  she  hurried 
away. 

"I  forgot  to  mention  to  you,  Duke,"  said  Ross,  after 
some  other  talk,  "  that  I  met  Mr.  Wheatley  on  Broadway, 
day  before  yesterday.  He  stopped  me,  —  wanted  to  know 
how  Tom  Barclay  was  getting  on ;  and  I  gave '  him  a 
good  account  of  his  former  clerk.  He  expressed  him- 
self glad  to  hear  it,  but  I  thought  he  had,  at  least, 
very  little  confidence  in  any  thorough  reformation  of 
the  boy." 

"Probably  not,"  answered  Duke.     "I  have  always 


412  •  THE  HOLLANDS. 

considered  the  old  gentleman  gave  me,  one  day,  a  won- 
derful proof  of  his  personal  regard." 

"  It  struck  me,  as  we  parted,"  continued  Ross,  "  that 
it  was  very  singular  Miss  Wheatley  manifested  no  interest 
for  her  father's  office-boy.  I  think  you  told  me  you  had 
the  story  first  from  her  own  lips,  Walbridge.  I  am  sure 
that,  under  the  same  circumstances,  you  would  have  shown 
no  such  indifference,  Jessamine." 

Ross'  sister  drew  a  long  breath.  Her  native  kindness 
was  always  prompt  to  find  excuses  for  people's  short- 
comings, when  she  could  do  it  honestly. 

"Margaret  Wheatley  never  had  any  real  troubles," 
said  the  soft,  earnest  voice.  "  She  is  very  pleasant  and 
charming,  and  all  that ;  but  it  seems  to  me  we  can  hardly 
be  tender  and  pitiful  to  others,  until  we  have  learned  the 
meaning  of  sorrow  for  ourselves.  You  understand,  JRoss  ?  " 

"Yes;  I  understand,  Jessamine,"  he  said,  gravely. 

The  brother  and  sister  looked  at  each  other,  and  in  a 
moment  their  youth  rose  up  and  moved  before  them. 

Just  then  Mrs.  Kent's  voice  shouted  to  Jessamine,  and 
the  latter  hurried  away. 

Ross 'rose  up  and  stood  by  his  friend.  "You  and  I 
will  be  something  more  than  brothers  in  name  to-morrow, 
Duke." 

Duke  flung  his  arms  around  young  Holland's  neck." 
"  Ah,  my  dear  fellow,  I  little  dreamed,  when  you  dragged 
me  out  of  the  sea  that  night,  you  were  giving  me  back 
again,  not  only  my  life,  but  beyond  that,  a  brother  and  a 
wife." 


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